Seasonal Seddie Love
by Princess-Warrior 17
Summary: A collection of one-shots based around the seasons, Seddie, and the undeniable love Sam and Freddie have for each other. Suggestions for prompts are welcomed (and are highly encouraged). Just leave me a review or PM me :) More details inside.
1. Autumn: leaves, pumpkin pie, and vanilla

**A/N: **_Hello, Seddie fans! Yes, I am really writing this collection of one-shots. I figured I'd never get around to doing such a thing, but hey, inspiration is a crazy thing. Yeah, I know I said I may not come back to the iCarly universe to write serious work. That doesn't mean I can't write silly, little stories in the mean time ;)  
_

_Also, if anyone has any suggestions for prompts, please let me know! Each one-shot will include a season you want me to put Sam and Freddie in, their ages, and three words that remind you of that season. The format is as follows:  
_

_-Season:_

_-Age range:_

_-Words: _

_If you have any questions (or suggestions for prompts) please leave a review or PM me. Most of the one-shots will not be as long as this first one, just so you know._

___Anyway, enough of my blabbering. Enjoy these one-shots!_

**Disclaimer:**

_iCarly belongs to Dan Schneider, not me. _

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: autumn

Age: seventeen years old

Words: leaves, pumpkin pie, and vanilla

* * *

The chilly autumn air bit at Freddie Benson's ears as he walked along the sidewalk with his two best friends, Carly Shay and Sam Puckett. Both females were involved in an in depth discussion about the newest fall fashion trends, which Freddie didn't find particularly interesting. He decided to tune them out, shifting his attention to the lovely scene around him.

He pulled his navy blue pea coat tighter around himself, making sure to bend the collar near his ears to block out the cold. His nose lifted into the air, breathing in the aromas of cinnamon, apples, and pumpkin. He knew many people in Seattle adored baking delicious fall treats, and his mouth watered at the idea. His ears focused on the crunch of leaves beneath his sneakers. Smiling, he glanced at the trees lining the path. Leaves fell around him, ribbons of color streaking the slightly graying sky.

"Don't you just _love_ autumn?" Carly giggled, poking him in the side.

"Of course. It's my favorite season," he answered, turning to grin at her.

"The food's the best part. Thanksgiving was a gift from the heavens," Sam piped up, shaking her head to remove some leaves that had collected in her golden hair.

Freddie had to resist the urge to reach out and brush the material away. He didn't understand why, but Sam had seemed _different_ to him recently. He couldn't put his finger on it, and it bothered him more than he liked to admit. She wasn't an equation to solve, or an essay to write. His brain wasn't wired to understand her, no matter how hard he tried.

It wasn't as if she had changed that much. She still looked the same—wavy blonde hair that fell past her shoulders in luscious ringlets, devious smirk permanently fixed onto her rosy lips, and mischievous azure colored eyes. She still acted the same—tough as nails, ready and waiting to knock out anyone who posed a threat. And she still drove him completely mad—knowing exactly how to push every single one of his buttons. Sometimes when she really irked him, all he wanted to do was push her against a wall, scream into her face, and kiss her senseless.

On second thought, maybe the last idea was a bad one. A _very, very_ bad one. He shivered at the image in his head of him lying in a hospital bed, feeling nothing but pain radiating from every section of his body.

He chose to stamp down those inner desires. With all the sarcasm he could muster, he snapped, "Sam, do you ever think about anything besides food?"

She snorted. "Nope," she said, popping the 'p.'

"Why am I not surprised?"

Carly watched Sam and Freddie in amusement. She fought a smile, ducking her head and tucking her mouth and nose into the scarf hanging loosely around her neck. Even though she pretended to be annoyed at their outbursts, she secretly loved the entertainment. Crossing her arms, she decided to let her friends go at it until she felt like intervening.

In response to Freddie's retort, Sam reached across Carly to flick him on the forehead.

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to her. "Sam!" he yelled, side-stepping his brunette best friend to get closer to the blonde headed demon. He stood in front of her, narrowing his brown eyes. "What was _that_ for?"

She scoffed, titling her head to gaze at him defiantly. "Don't be such a baby. That barely hurt."

"Not the point," he argued, drawing nearer so that their faces were a few inches apart. He tried to ignore the way her sapphire eyes sparkled with mirth as she prepared for another one of their battles.

"_Children_," Carly chided, placing her arm between them to create a barrier. "Don't make me come over there and settle this."

Freddie backed away, feeling his anger dissipate. His feet began moving again, causing the trio to shuffle along the path once more. "It's not my fault she likes violence so much. I'm just an innocent bystander." He pouted, sticking his hands in his coat pockets.

Rolling her eyes, Sam made a noncommittal noise. "_Please._ 'Innocent bystander', my ass. You're half of the problem," she sneered.

"_I'm_ half the problem? Look at you! You're able to turn a simple question into a blown out fight! I swear Sam—"

Before Freddie could finish his threat, Carly jumped into the conversation, waving her arms around in exasperation.

"Guys, guys! Enough. C'mon, you can't possibly be angry when it's autumn! The days are too pretty to waste. Thanksgiving is in a week, and now's the time to be thankful for each other. Can we at least do that?" She turned to both of her friends, looking at them with the pleading eyes.

"Whatever," Sam and Freddie muttered, but continued to glare at one another over Carly's head.

Sighing, Carly shouldered her backpack. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled, preparing to change the subject to avoid another potential quarrel.

"As I was saying, Thanksgiving is coming soon. I think we should have a little gathering to celebrate it."

"Great idea, Carls! The more of us there are, the more food there'll be." Sam's eyes lit up and she rubbed her hand over her stomach. "I'll be at your place anyway because Mom is going to Vegas. She met another guy." She wrinkled her nose, which didn't go unnoticed by Freddie. He had to remind himself that he did _not_ find the action cute. No sir.

"Well, the more the merrier!" Carly chirped, slinging her arm around her blonde sidekick. She turned to Freddie. "What about you? I know you probably have dinner plans with your mom, but you can come over afterwards."

Freddie's mouth curved into a huge smile. "Actually, my mom is headed to Fresno. Apparently, one of my cousins is in dire need of her medical assistance. Something about a skin condition that needs treatment right away. I'm alone for the holiday!" He pumped his fist into the air at the thought.

"Aw, poor baby. Are you to be okay all by your lonesome? I'm sure your mommy can take you to Fresno with her," Sam cooed in a voice meant for infants or toddlers.

"Shut it, Sam," Freddie growled, twisting his head to glower at her.

"Make me." She arched an eyebrow, calling him for a challenge.

"Sam, Freddie!" Carly shouted. "What did I just say?"

Both perpetrators looked away to avoid meeting Carly's reprimanding gaze. However, Sam couldn't escape her persistent best friend who was staring at her with a determined look.

"Sam, I think Freddie can handle a day without Mrs. Benson. Plus, he's joining us, so he won't be by himself. Aren't you, Freddie?" She bumped his shoulder.

"I guess I'm joining you then." He grinned, flashing her a thumbs-up.

Of course, that wasn't the response Sam wanted. "Really, Carls? The King of Nubs has to join us on _my_ holiday? Can't he spend it alone?" she sputtered.

"Sam," Carly said patiently. "This is not _your_ holiday. You may eat the most, but it's entitled to everyone. Therefore, Freddie is going to come along."

The blonde jutted out her lower lip, sulking. "Fine," she mumbled, shaking her head once more to remove some leaves that had lodged themselves there.

"Excellent! Okay, now we need to decide what we're each going to bring. Spencer and I are not cooking the entire meal. Imagine all the burned pieces if I let him loose with the whole menu."

She chuckled, and with her friends, rounded the corner to Bushwell Plaza. They walked in silence for a few moments until they reached the familiar building.

"I call making the pumpkin pie," Freddie volunteered, stepping inside of the apartment complex.

"Uh, I'm doing the pie, Benson," Sam said with an edge to her voice.

"No, you're not. You'll eat it before we even serve it! No way." He fixed her with another glare, but she dismissed it.

"You don't trust me enough to bake a pie? Jesus, Freddork. Lighten up." Rolling her eyes, she headed in the direction of the elevator with the brunettes in tow. Once they were all in, she hit the button for the eighth floor.

"Carly, tell Sam she can't take over the pie," Freddie demanded.

She shook her head, a neutral expression on her face. "No can do, Freddie. Actually, since this is the time of year to give thanks, why don't you guys work on the pie together?" She sounded dead serious, but her eyes twinkled with delight. Carly might have been a good girl, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy watching her best friends squirm.

"No," Sam uttered, eyes flaring with irritation. "I am _not_ working with him."

"Ditto," Freddie echoed, crossing his arms.

The elevator dinged and the trio left, making their way to the Shay's apartment.

Carly sighed, reaching up to rub her temples. A small headache had formed after listening to them bicker. Before she opened the door to let them inside, she spun around to give them an adamant look.

"If you guys won't collaborate on the pie, then you're both not invited. Freddie, you can stay in your apartment and eat whatever it is your mother is leaving you in the fridge. And Sam, don't bother coming over. I'll just drop food by your house for you and Frothy to share."

Freddie and Sam blanched at the idea of having to spend Thanksgiving alone. Realization dawned on them, causing them to frantically say at the same time, "We'll do it!"

A Cheshire cat-like smile donned Carly's lips. "Wonderful."

As she pushed the door open to reveal her apartment, Freddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. He glanced at Sam, taking in her profile. He suddenly felt a subtle ache in his chest. What had he just agreed to?

* * *

A week later, on the afternoon of Thanksgiving, Freddie found himself in his kitchen with his hands in his hair. He kept tugging, hoping that maybe if he ripped it all out, it would be less painful than dealing with _her._

Said woman was flouncing around the room, gathering the ingredients needed to make the pumpkin pie. Sure, it didn't seem like they were going to kill each other right now, but the tension was thick in the air.

Of course, things didn't go smoothly when Sam waltzed into Freddie's apartment an hour later than expected. She came in with half a chicken leg hanging out of her mouth and a freshly blended smoothie in hand. Needless to say, a heated argument ensued between them, causing vicious words to be flung, a couple of punches (on Sam's behalf) to be thrown, and promises of never working together again to be made.

Forty-five minutes after their disagreement, both had cooled down enough to read through the recipe Freddie had printed.

"Nub, where's the pie crust?" Sam asked, tossing everything unceremoniously on the counter. She emptied the grocery bags of items that Freddie had bought for the day, dumping the contents right and left.

"Watch it! I don't want to have to make a second grocery store run if you break anything. And there isn't pre-made pie crust. _We _are preparing it from scratch." He grabbed the mixing bowl off the counter to drag it closer to him.

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how hard it is to make a good pie crust, Freddie? We don't have all day!" Sam shot back, reaching for the can of pumpkin.

"We would have had more time if you hadn't shown up late," he ground out, taking the can from her and lifting the lid off with the can opener.

"So, it's _my _fault? I was hungry! Excuse me for stopping and getting a snack. At least you didn't have to pay for it." She snarled, yanking the can from his hands.

"I can't believe I agreed to work with you. You're nothing but a _menace_." He spat the last word in her face, angling his body so that it was pressed against hers.

The next thing Freddie knew, he got a face full of pumpkin. He remained frozen in his spot, speechless.

Sam stared at him, blinking for a few moments before bursting out laughing. She placed the can down on the counter, clutching her stomach to keep herself from doubling over.

And the next thing she could register was the feel of pumpkin in her hair.

"What the hell, Benson?!" she screamed.

Shrugging, he smirked. "You started it, Princess."

"This. Is. War." She shoved her hand back into the mushy material in the container.

"Bring it on."

At his words, Sam slammed her fist of pumpkin directly into Freddie's face. He responded quickly, taking hold of his own hand full and chucking it all over Sam's outfit, covering her from head to toe. She gaped at him for a second, thought on her feet, and tipped the remainder of the can on his head, giggling as she did so.

They were a mass of orange goo, but neither person could regret their decision—they simply had too much fun for words. They smiled at one another, chuckling at how ridiculous the situation had become.

Freddie continued to gaze at Sam, noticing that her genuine smile was way more beautiful than her normal smirk. He felt his heart leap at the sight. He knew he could deny all he wanted, but he truly did find Sam attractive, especially if she wasn't physically or emotionally damaging him.

"We look like crap," he said, breaking their fit of laughter.

"No shit, Sherlock," Sam agreed, pointing to herself. "I can't say I've ever been decorated in pumpkin before."

"The look suits you well, Puckett." Freddie's lips fell into an easy smile.

Sam winked, giving a little bow. "Why, thank you. I kind of prefer this fashion statement."

Freddie couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks. Was she _flirting _with him? How in the world had that happened when they were practically ready to murder each other a few minutes ago?

He cleared his throat, hoping his mind would quickly rid itself of all thoughts regarding the blonde standing in front of him. Now was _not_ the time to have fantasies about her.

"If we want any chance of finishing this pie on time, we have to start now. I personally don't want to deal with Carly's wrath if we don't produce one," he announced gravelly.

"Good plan. Should we clean ourselves up first?"

He shook his head. "No time. We can shower and change when the pie is in the oven."

"All right. That solves issue number one. Issue number two, we need another can of pumpkin." She picked up the empty container and hurled it over her shoulder. It landed neatly in the trash bin with a _swoosh._

"Got it covered." Freddie dropped to his knees to open a cabinet door. When he jumped back up, he held a new, rather large can.

"You bought two cans and hid one?" She quirked a brow.

"Yes. I've known you for too long, Sam. I figured our teamwork wasn't going to be easy, hence my decision to purchase more pumpkin than necessary."

"Of course. I guess it's all a part of the 'Freddie Benson Master Plan', hm?" She moved around him to reach for the eggs and sugar.

He felt a rush of boldness, and without thinking, grabbed onto her wrist. She flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. She gave him a confused look, asking him silently what he was doing. He ignored her question, choosing to push ahead with his own thought.

"You know, that plan went out the window the day I met you. I can't predict anything when you're around," he whispered, causing the mood to shift considerably.

Sam gulped, gazing at Freddie with an unreadable expression. When she didn't throw a snarky comment his way, he dropped her hand, cutting off their momentary connection.

"Right. Well, let's get this show on the road," she said, but her voice wasn't nearly as stable as it had been.

Freddie nodded, picking up the recipe. He cursed his moment of idiocy, praying that it wouldn't affect the partnership. He just wanted to get the dang pie done!

He feigned a smile. "Okay. One pumpkin pie coming right up."

* * *

"Sam, the pie's ready!" Freddie shouted from outside of his bedroom door.

He could hear banging from inside the room and wondered what on earth Sam was doing in there. Normal people didn't make such ruckuses when doing something as simple as changing their clothes. Then again, Sam was definitely _not_ normal.

"Don't just stand there, nub! Get it out," she yelled.

"Fine," he grumbled, striding into the kitchen. He turned off the timer, grateful that the awful device could be silenced.

Freddie felt relief wash over him as he yanked the oven door open and was hit by the most scrumptious scent possible. He reached his hand in and poked at the center with a tooth pick to make sure it was cooked all the way through. He grinned when the pie showed signs that it was perfect. Sighing, he slid his hands into gloves to delicately lift the baked good out. He placed it on the cooling rack, kicked the door shut, and twirled the switch on the oven to shut it off.

"Smells good in here," Sam announced from the doorway.

If Freddie had been carrying the pie in his hands, he would have dropped it. As it was, his jaw basically hit the floor when he took in the sight of Sam, clad in a pair of dark wash jeans that deliciously hugged her curves, a burnt orange cardigan that set off the blonde in her hair, and a lacy white camisole that peeked out from underneath the cardigan. Her hair looked impossibly soft—Freddie had to stop himself from marching up to her to curl a strand around his finger. Her lips, however, were harder for him to ignore. They shined with some type of gloss, and if he didn't control himself, he was definitely going to kiss her right where she stood.

"Close your mouth, Freddison. You don't want flies to come in there," she teased, stepping closer.

He snapped his mouth shut. "You look rather festive, Ms. Puckett," he fired back, keeping his tone light.

"Well, pumpkin looked good on me, so I figured orange seemed like a decent choice for tonight. I found it in my closet when you drove me to my place to get new clothes." Surprisingly, her voice didn't hold any notes of sarcasm whatsoever.

"What I meant to say was you look nice," he breathed, unable to hold back he comment.

She cast her eyes down to the ground and her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit. She appeared almost _shy._ "Thanks," she mumbled quietly.

He hated to remove his eyes from her, but he had to check the time. Good thing he did because they only had two minutes to get to Carly's before she came bursting into his apartment.

"Time to go," he said, picking up the pie with one hand and reaching for the door knob with the other.

"Let's do this, Fredward." Her lips arched into a small, _real_ smile as she followed silently behind him.

* * *

After almost two hours of eating (much to Sam's pleasure), both Shays, Sam, and Freddie sat around the kitchen table, holding their bellies.

"Too much food," Sam groaned, slouching in her seat.

Spencer, Freddie, and Carly stared at her in awe. Each one took their turn to wave their hand in front of her face, poke her on the shoulder, and ask what was wrong.

"What? Even Sam Puckett has limits sometimes," she protested, much to everyone's surprise.

Freddie's gaze was unwavering. He had been looking at her throughout the entire dinner, and even when he tried to stop, he couldn't. He was positive he was going insane for wanting to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her he liked her.

_Wait, what?_ Freddie thought to himself. _No,_ _Sam's onl_y _a friend. I do NOT see her like that. But maybe she wouldn't mind just one kiss? No. Terrible idea, Freddie. Might as well get the body bag ready for yourself if that were to happen._

"Freddie, are you all right?" Carly nudged him. "You've been zoning in and out all night."

Sam let out a quiet snort. "Is he ever all right?"

Carly gave her a scolding look, but kept her attention on Freddie. "Seriously, everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answered shortly, eyes still somewhat trained on Sam, who at this point, had gotten out of her chair to wander towards the pie. He rose out of his seat to make his way to her.

"Still hungry, Puckett?" he joked, leaning against the island.

"We worked damn hard on this pie," she answered, gliding her fingertips over it. "Even if I am full, I'm going to have a slice."

He smirked. "Fair enough."

They gazed at each for a few seconds, neither of them saying anything. Of course, this didn't go unnoticed by a certain Carly Shay.

"Spencer," Carly said loudly, gently shoving his shoulder to get him to stand up. "I think we have to go call our Uncle…Vermont. It's Thanksgiving, and I'm sure he's waiting to hear from us."

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. "Uncle Vermont? I don't think we have—Ahh!" He suddenly felt himself being pulled out of chair by his seventeen-year-old sister.

Said brunette girl almost launched him up the stairs, trying to hold back her laughter as she did so. Once they were safely out of sight, Freddie turned to Sam.

"Well, that was weird," he pointed out.

"The Shay siblings capitalize on _weird._" Sam left him for a moment to go grab two forks for the pie. "Shall we?" she asked.

"Won't Carly be mad if we don't properly cut two slices?"

She shook her head. "No. It's _our_ pie, remember? If we want to eat it straight from the pan, we're going to do it."

"Sounds like a plan." He smiled at her, jabbed his fork into the silky pie, and took a bite. He nearly moaned at the flavor of it.

"You know, I'm not an idiot," she stated after chewing.

"What?" he swallowed and shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

"I know you like me."

Freddie came incredibly close to choking on his piece of pie. He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like a combination of 'what' and 'huh.'

"Whauh?"

Sam blew out a patient breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been staring at me all night. You've been fighting with me more often because you're in denial, and being snarky is what you're used to. You don't know how to handle your feelings for me because, well, I'm _me._ You wouldn't have a problem with most girls, but you are _terrified_ what liking me will do to our friendship and partnership on iCarly. If you weren't so much of an idiot yourself, you'd realize that maybe I don't find you as disgusting as I used to."

Freddie couldn't move. He couldn't even say anything. He stood, paralyzed, brown eyes wide with fear.

"Um." He mentally wanted to shoot himself for acting like such an imbecile.

"I don't get why people think you're so eloquent. I don't see it," she quipped, grinning slightly. She ate a few more bites of pie while he tried to figure out what exactly it was he wanted to do.

She had caught him and discovered his desires and worries. Now what?

"The pie's missing something. I think it needs vanilla ice cream," he said, cringing as the words left his mouth. He had no idea why _that_ thought escaped his mind.

"I think I can fix that."

Very slowly, Sam Puckett leaned in and pressed her mouth to Freddie Benson's. Freddie closed his eyes, focusing on how soft her lips were and how they tasted purely of _vanilla_. It must have been the gloss she had been wearing earlier.

Freddie knew things were about to get a hell of a lot more complicated, starting with how to deal with this new relationship with Sam. However, he couldn't find the power in him to care at the moment. The only thing that mattered was kissing Sam. And he did just that.

* * *

If Sam and Freddie had paid any attention, they would have noticed Carly and Spencer Shay peeking around the corner of the stairwell, both with huge smiles on their faces.

"Told you," Carly whispered, elbowing her brother. She discreetly threw her hands in the air in a victory pose.

"Very well done. The pie plan was awesome," Spencer murmured. "How did you know they'd end up together over that?"

"A girl just knows. Especially if she has two hot-headed best friends who have a bad habit of staring at each other like they want to tackle the other." She held out her hand, curling her fingers. "You owe me $50."

Spencer begrudgingly pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. Slapping the bill in her hand, he groaned. "I'm not making bets with you anymore. I figured they'd start dating by Christmas, not Thanksgiving."

"Sorry, big brother. Maybe next time." Carly winked and as quietly as she could, disappeared from her position with her brother.

They walked towards the iCarly studio, arms around each other.

"So, this Uncle Vermont—" Spencer began.

Carly laughed, knowing that this was possibly the best Thanksgiving ever.

* * *

_**If you leave a review, I'll send you a virtual pumpkin pie :)**_


	2. Autumn: Halloween party, costumes, candy

**A/N: **

_Here's chapter two! I lied about this being shorter— it's actually longer than the first chapter, but I figured you guys wouldn't mind. Also, there are mentions of other couples. Joining Seddie, there will be Brad/Carly and Gibby/Wendy. Oh, and there some quips about Harry Potter as well. _

_Thank you to those who have read this story, reviewed it, or added it to your following/favorites list! It means a lot to me :)_

_Sorry for any typos. I got really tired of editing at 4:00 in the morning. _

_Dedicated to __**BethMcLennon**__. Thanks for the prompt!_

**Disclaimer:**

_I thought about writing Dan Schneider and J.K. Rowling to ask them if I could own their respective works of art. I knew it would be a no go, so I didn't attempt it. Darn! iCarly is not mine, and neither is Harry Potter. _

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: autumn

Age: eighteen years old

Words: Halloween party, costumes, and candy

* * *

"This party is awesome!" Gibby shouted over the blare of the music, smiling at the hostess.

"Thanks!" Carly responded, equally as loud.

She clutched onto her plastic cup full of Wahoo Punch with one hand, and leaned against the railing of the stairwell with the other. Her eyes wandered over the space, taking in the scene.

At least thirty Ridgeway students were milling around the first floor of the apartment, dancing, drinking punch or soda, chatting, or simply enjoying the Halloween party. Of course, they were all in costume, which made things even better.

Carly herself was decked out in an emerald green renaissance dress with swooping sleeves and gold satin lining. She kept her shoe style plain, choosing to stick with black flats so she could dance to her heart's content. Her raven hair hung in large ringlets around her face, her snowy white skin had a slight rosy hue, and her lips sparkled with a sheer coral color. She looked absolutely _dazzling._

But a certain boy didn't seem to notice. No, he was too busy hanging all over _other_ girls.

Carly let out a frustrated sigh, tipping the remainder of the drink into her mouth. She hurled the container into the trash bin from her spot—if she had not been in such an irritated mood, she would have celebrated her slam dunk.

"What's wrong, Carly?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Twisting her head to the right, she saw Gibby's concerned face.

"Brad," she replied and frowned.

A look of understanding flashed across his eyes. He nodded, but remained quiet. He placed his arm loosely around her thin frame, pulling her against his side.

She continued with her rant. "He hasn't looked at me once this evening. And I planned this stupid outfit for him!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Why don't you go and talk to him? He may not even know you're interested in him."

She turned her head back to the party, watching everyone have a good time.

"_Please._ I think I've made it abundantly clear by now. I've liked him for five months, Gibby. Shouldn't he notice the way my eyes are only on him, or the obvious invitations to hang out, or the fact that I dress carefully, making sure I wear his favorite colors?"

Her eyebrows creased in confusion. Carly usually never had any issues getting a boy to seek out her affection. Brad, on the other hand, seemed impossible. It wasn't as if he was the quarterback of the football team, or the president of student council, or some big hot-shot. He was just _Brad_, and that's what she adored about him. He was handsome, funny, unbelievably sweet, intelligent, and he made amazing fudge. Leave it to Carly crush on the one guy who wasn't head over heels for her.

"Guys are clueless. You pretty much have to hit us over the head with a baseball bat for us to notice. Maybe if you just told him how you felt, he'd realize he's been wasting all this time. I'm positive he has a thing for you, too, Carly."

"If you say so," she said skeptically.

Gibby smiled and rubbed her back gently. "I know so."

She glanced at her friend, giving him a small smile in return. "Thanks, Gibby." Her eyes scanned his outfit. "How's the Dracula costume working out for you?"

He ran his free hand through his slicked back hair. True to Carly's word, Gibby stood in black trousers, a crisp white button-up, and a red vest. A long, black cape was draped snuggly around his shoulders.

He shrugged. "I've gotten a few offers. Some girls wanted me to take them to the midnight showing of _The Conjuring _at the Omniplex."

She could read his face easily. "But you didn't want to go, so you declined the offers."

"Yeah. Not really into horror films." He sounded quiet, and Carly knew exactly what the problem was.

"Are you sure this doesn't have to do with Wendy?"

He raised his right shoulder in nonchalance. "Maybe."

"You know, you could always say hi to her. She probably has no idea you think she's cute."

He snorted, but his eyes strayed to the object of his affection. She definitely looked pretty in her cow-girl costume.

"A girl like that wouldn't give me the time of day. Admiring from afar is a lot easier."

"You're such a hypocrite," she cried. "You tell me to go speak with Brad, but you have no intention of doing the same with Wendy."

Shaking his head, he disagreed. "It's a different situation. You and Brad like each other. Wendy barely knows I exist."

"You could change that." She winked, nudging his shoulder with her own.

"Right," he replied sardonically, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, we should get back to the party. I am the one throwing it, after all." She pulled him down the stairs by the hand.

They disappeared into the throng of people, ready to join in on the night's festivities. Unfortunately, Carly couldn't find any happiness in what she was doing. Every thought she had revolved around Brad. She wondered what would happen if she had the guts to tell him.

* * *

"Sam, how goes it?" Brad asked, leaning against the fridge, arms crossed over his chest.

"Same old, same old," she answered, motioning for him to move so she could get some water. Dancing had a way of exhausting all of her energy.

She let the cool water run down her throat, marveling at how soothing it felt. Shrugging, she set the bottle down on the table. Her eyes scanned his body, trying to determine who he was dressed as.

"Who are you supposed to be, by the way? You're just in black tailored suit."

"Bond. James Bond," he responded in a serious English accent.

"_Dude._ There's only one legitimate James Bond out there. Sorry, but you're not doing such a good job with your impersonation."

He pouted, which caused Sam to laugh. She playfully shoved him.

"I couldn't think of anything else," he said in his normal voice.

"Neither could I."

She gestured down to her costume, making Brad's eyes bug out. Of course he had noticed throughout the evening, but being this close to it was somewhat enchanting. His gaze traveled the length of her body, taking in the spectacular sight.

Sam was dressed in a rather _stunning _version of Red Riding Hood's clothes. She had selected a moderately revealing ensemble, but nothing too slutty. The flowing, blood-red skirt hit at her knees, drawing attention to her milky white legs. She also had on a cream colored medieval shirt with a _tight_ olive green corset cinching around her chest and waist. Red leather gloves donned her hands, and a gorgeous, long red cape was slung around her shoulders, complete with a hood. She looked exactly like Red Riding Hood from _Once A Upon A Time_, minus the brown hair.

The signature piece of Sam's attire (and her favorite part) was the basket prop that sat on the island, full of delicious-looking candied red apples. With it, she appeared to be a man's walking fantasy.

"Eyes up, Bradley," Sam barked disapprovingly.

"Sorry!" His green eyes snapped up to meet her cerulean orbs. "You just look…incredible."

"Thanks." She blushed scarlet, adding more red to her look. Then, she shook her head, almost as if she was reprimanding herself. In a firm voice she said, "I'm flattered, but I'm not the one you should be saying that to. Carly's been waiting for you to sweep her off her feet for God knows how long."

If Brad's eyes had been big before, they were three times as wide now. He cocked his head, studying the blonde bombshell in front of him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked warily, walking over to the island. He stuck his hand into the candy bowl to fish for decent piece. His fingers closed around a Hershey's Kiss and he raised it to his lips.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" she practically growled, joining him at the island. When he didn't respond, she pressed on. "It does _not_ take a genius to figure out that Carly is crazy about you." She glanced at him, but his face seemed frozen in a perpetual state of confusion. She socked him in the arm with a grunt. "It's more than obvious that you have a crush on her, too."

"You don't know what you're saying," Brad accused, tossing the small morsel in his mouth and chewing. "Who says I have a thing for Carly?"

"I do. Let's count the signs, shall we?" She held up her fingers. "One, you can't form a coherent sentence around her. Two, you blush when she compliments your work for iCarly. Three, your eyes are glued to her when she wears your favorite colors. Four, you spend time with her when she invites you out. Five, you're blushing as we speak. Face it, you've got it bad."

"She and I are _friends._ She's just being friendly," he reasoned.

"No, she's not. Carly has never liked a guy as much as she likes you. You can't imagine how much she talks about you. Your name must come up in nine out of ten conversations we have." She chuckled and rummaged in the bowl for her own sugary snacks.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And you better do something about it soon. I don't know if I can stand any more of her ogling."

"Sam, I'm horrible at this kind of thing. What do I do?" Brad moaned, fisting his hair.

"Ask her out on a date," Sam mumbled around various pieces of candy.

"You honestly think she'll say yes?"

He sounded petrified, causing Sam to feel a pang in her chest. Brad really _was_ insecure when it came to his feelings.

"Trust me, if you ask her, she'll basically swoon into your arms."

He laughed. "Good to know."

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I'm gonna go find the bigger stash of candy that Carly has. She stored in the studio, probably to keep it away from me." She winked and turned to leave. She only made it a few steps before Brad stopped her.

"Wait, Sam."

She arched an eyebrow, indicating that he should hurry up with whatever he was planning on saying.

"If I ask Carly out, you need to make a move on Freddie. I know he wants you to be his girlfriend."

It was her turn to look shocked. "What?"

He smirked. "You heard me. The whole iCarly audience can see the sparks between you guys. You may claim to hate each other, but it's not real. Call it what you will—that just puts you more in denial. And I know for a fact that he's been drooling all night. If I find you attractive in that outfit, you can only imagine what it's doing to him."

"I—what—you—huh?" is what came out of Sam's mouth.

"You have the nerve to call _me_ foolish. Look at yourself, Puckett. You're totally unaware that you've fallen for Freddie."

"I _don't_ feel that way about him!" she sputtered, frantically shaking her head.

"Sure you don't." He snorted and motioned to her basket of apples. "If I were you, I'd entice him with one those. They seem very tempting, especially if they're coming from you."

"You're a dingbat, Brad!" Sam called over her shoulder, sprinting to stairwell.

Brad watched in amusement as she scrambled up the stairs, hoping to get away from him. Of course, his eyes caught the sight of a shiny, crimson orb in her hand.

_This is definitely going to be interesting_, he thought to himself.

* * *

"Freddie, it's kind of chilly out here. You sure you don't want to come inside?" Wendy questioned from her place at the windowsill.

Freddie didn't bother to turn around. He silently stood on the Shay's fire escape. He shivered, wrapping the red and gold striped scarf tighter around his neck. He was thankful for the large black robes that surrounded his body, cloaking him in warmth. Actually, he wasn't really that cold—he had on black trousers and a white colored shirt with a gray sweater over it. To complete his _Harry Potter_ look, he even had on black rimmed glasses.

"Freddie," Wendy sighed, stepping out to join him. "You can't just spend the rest of the night here."

"Why not?"

"Because this is _not_ the way to get Sam to date you." Her voice was adamant, even though her body shook from the breeze. Her cow-girl outfit was _not_ made to withstand the harsh weather.

"You sound so convinced that I want Sam as my girlfriend." His tone wasn't bitter, but filled with notes of defeat.

"You suck at hiding it. I mean, you couldn't keep your eyes off of her when she walked into the room with her Red Riding Hood costume. You do that every time she's near you, though. It's like she's the only one you see."

"Even if I did want her in _that_ way, there's no hope," he said sadly, casting his gaze towards the sky. "Sam hates me. She always has. She'd rather beat me up with a carton of milk than be with me."

"You don't know that." She gently touched his shoulder, causing him to glance at her. "Sam is a lot deeper than you think. Maybe she secretly likes you."

He shook his head, feeling the melancholy start to sink in. "I'm _in_ love with her, Wendy. I don't know how it happened, or why it did, but I fell for her. I can't possibly tell her how I feel—she'll just laugh in my face." His lower lip trembled, and if Wendy wasn't afraid that they would get caught by Sam, she would have crushed him in a hug.

"There's no way to change your mind, is there?" Concern laced her voice and her facial features.

"No. I'd rather live with the fact that I love her than have to face her once she knows. You, on the other hand, have something to take care of. I know a guy who's dying to talk to you, but he's too scared to initiate anything." He forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Wendy's eyes lit up. "Oh, who might that be?"

"Gibby."

"Gibby?"

"Yes. Long story short, he wants to get to know you."

A soft smile appeared on her lips. "Aw, that's adorable! Truth be told, I've always wanted to learn more about him. He's incredibly unique—there's certainly no one else like him. I just didn't think he had any interest. It's so hard to tell with him."

"Well, he _is_ Gibby."

She giggled. "Very true. I can't promise you we'll hit it off right away, but who knows? I'm willing to try."

"Good." He carefully moved her to the window sill. "Off you go, Wendy."

Before she disappeared through the portal back to the party, she made one last comment. "Take care of yourself, Freddie. Don't let this get you down. And thanks…for the advice."

He didn't respond as she left. He leaned against the side of the apartment, allowing his thoughts to take over. He knew he had one more thing to deal with, but after that, he could wander to the iCarly studio and mope for the rest of the night. There was a stash of candy he needed to get his hands on.

Sighing, he pushed himself away from the wall. Shaking his head, he asked himself why he had to love someone so unattainable. But, he already had a tentative answer in mind.

_It's because I'm a masochist,_ he thought grimly and jumped back into the apartment.

* * *

By the time Freddie made it inside, Carly was once again on the stairwell, observing the party. He came up beside her and muttered, "I spoke with Wendy. You should make the announcement now."

"Thanks," she whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor below. "I owe you one."

"Consider your debt gone if you tell me where the big pile of candy is in the studio."

"It's in the car, underneath the seat."

He bumped her shoulder, grinning. "Thank you. Good luck." He sprinted away, ready to go find his sugary oasis.

Carly descended the stairs to reach for the microphone on the stand near the Bottle Bot.

"Hey, everyone!" she said into the mic. "How is everything?"

A burst of applause and shouts of "Great!" came back at her.

"Awesome! Well, I think we're going to slow things down for a couple of songs. So, grab that special partner and let's do this."

She unlocked her PearPod on the table, clicking on Frank Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight." Once the beginning chords resonated through the room, boys and girls started pairing off and began twirling on the small dance floor.

Carly's eyes scanned the crowd for Gibby, but before she could locate him, she felt a tug on her wrist. Glancing up, she found viridian eyes gazing into her brown ones.

"Brad," she breathed. "What are you doing?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute out in the hallway?" he asked nervously, almost visibly shaking from fear.

"Sure." She led them to the door, unable to ignore the fact that he hadn't let go. In fact, his hand inched farther down and was nestled in hers. Their fingers wove together, which made Carly's heartbeat increase ten-fold.

When they safely made it into the hallway, Brad dropped Carly's hand as if it were on fire. She had difficulty hiding her disappointment—she already missed the contact.

"What is this about?" she demanded.

"Carly, I w-wanted to a-ask you s-s-omething," he stuttered, blinking rapidly. A deep scarlet blush bloomed across his cheeks, completely destroying the suave James Bond look.

"Yes?"

She tapped her foot impatiently, wondering what in the world he wished to ask her. She tried not to get her hopes up, in case his question involved something utterly irrelevant.

"Willyougoonadatewithme?" he mumbled.

"I didn't catch that, Brad."

"Will. You. Go. On. A. Date. With. Me?"

She remained silent, causing him to sweat. _Oh, God. _He thought. _Sam was wrong! She probably thinks I'm a huge dork. She's going to reject me right now._ He braced himself to hear such news.

Quirking an eyebrow and maintaining a calm voice, she said, "It took you long enough."

"Well, I'm not good at this kind of thing. I'm a nervous wreck around you—wait. What did you just say?"

Carly broke character then, leaping into Brad's surprised arms.

"Of course I'll go out with you!" she shrieked.

He held onto her for a moment, then slowly pulled away to study her face. He couldn't stop the smile from spreading wide on his lips.

"I was so worried that you would say no," he admitted sheepishly.

"Why?"

"Look, I _like_ you, Carly. I know I've been terrible about showing it, but it's true. Whenever I like someone, I almost never make a move. The last girlfriend I had—and the only one, by the way—asked _me_ out. And she broke up with me because she thought I didn't know how to act like a boyfriend." His cheeks flushed again.

Carly stretched on her tip-toes to brush Brad's bangs from his eyes. She inched her face closer to his, resisting the urge to kiss him right there.

"Well, I can assure you that I won't do that. I've waited five months for this. If you need a little help with the whole 'boyfriend' thing, I'm your girl." Her smile was both comforting and blindingly beautiful.

"You've been after me for five months?"

She nodded. "Ever since your intern interview."

"So, it wouldn't be too premature to ask you to see the midnight showing of _The Conjuring_ with me?"

"Not at all. Help me clean up after the party, and you've got yourself a deal."

"Perfect. Speaking of your amazing Halloween bash, shall we go back to it?" He draped his arm around her, drawing her closer to his side.

"We shall." She moved towards the door, but he held her in place.

"I forgot to tell you that you look lovely in that dress of yours. Green is most certainly your color." He ran his hand down the length of her arm, feeling the soft velvet fabric.

Smirking, she said, "And it just so happens to be your favorite color."

"That may have something to do with it." He chuckled and bent his head to softly press a kiss to her cheek.

Now, it was her to turn to blush. A happy sigh left her lips, which curved into a smile. "Your ex-girlfriend was definitely an idiot. But, I'm glad she let you go, so that I can have you."

"Me, too."

As both Carly and Brad stepped through the door with arms around each other, Carly kept saying in her head, _Maybe it was a good idea that I waited. Things couldn't have worked out any better._ When she turned to look at Brad, she knew in her heart that it was the truth.

* * *

Gibby stood on the sidelines of the dance floor, near the bowls full of various chips, pretzels, and sugary delights. He stopped himself from shoving a hand into one of the bowls. He had already eaten quite a bit to drown out his sorrows. Unfortunately, not even food could make him feel like his normal self.

For any guy, it would have been thrilling to get as many offers as he did. To Gibby, it made him more depressed. He knew he was giving up great girls for the one he wanted—the guilt ate him. He desperately wished he could forget about the girl with auburn hair and hazel eyes.

He felt a soothing hand on his lower back and thought it may have been Carly. To his surprise, he found Wendy.

"Hi, Gibby," she said, a shy smile on her face.

"Wendy," he gasped.

"Would you like to dance?" Her calming eyes bore such depth that his answer came out immediately.

"Yes, I would love to."

She guided him to the middle of the floor. He hesitantly placed his hands around her waist, while she rested hers on his broad shoulders. Once they were in position, they began to sway with the rhythm of the music.

"Wendy, I—"

"I know, Gibby. It's okay; you don't have to say it." Her expression showed pure kindness, which made his heart pound.

He lowered his voice. "Who told you?"

"That part doesn't matter. What _does_ matter, though, is that I want a chance to really meet you, too. You've always been known for your stuff on iCarly. I want to get to know the _real_ Gibby Gibson."

His cheeks flamed at her words. "You do?"

"Yeah. Does the Groovy Smoothie next Friday sound good?"

A grin that could have stretched from Seattle to New York City appeared on his mouth.

"Sounds perfect."

As they continued to dance, Gibby couldn't help but think that admiring from afar sometimes had its perks.

* * *

Freddie was about to reach for the doorknob that led into the iCarly studio when he noticed a figure through the glass.

_Fuck,_ he said to himself. _Why does she have to be in there?_

He felt like bolting, but unfortunately for him, she spun around in that moment to lock gazes with him. Titling her head to the side for a split second, she motioned for him to come inside.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath, opening the barrier. He crossed the threshold, taking a few tentative steps in her direction.

"Why are you here?" she wondered, biting on what appeared to be a stick of licorice.

"I came for the candy." He gestured to vehicle. "But I see you already beat me to it."

She shrugged. "I was hungry. And Halloween is the only holiday where you're encouraged to eat candy."

Freddie chuckled. "I suppose you're right." He tried to shift his attention elsewhere so he wouldn't think about pushing her against the car and having his wicked way with her. His eyes settled on the red candied apple perched on his tech cart. "What's that doing there?" He pointed at the object.

She said nothing as she fetched it for him. Holding out her gloved hand, she offered him the delectable treat.

"It's for you," she murmured.

He examined it suspiciously. "Really?"

She nodded, noting his anxiety. "Don't worry; I didn't poison it."

He took a generous bite, chewing soundly. His teeth felt like they were going to fall out of his mouth due to the sweet and tangy flavor, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He was so focused on eating that he practically choked when she asked him a particularly alarming question.

"Freddie, are you in love with me?"

He almost spit out his chunk of apple.

"What?!"

"Never mind. Forget I said anything," she answered briskly, turning away from him to return to the automobile. She began pawing through the bag of candy to distract herself from the sinking feeling of humiliation.

He carefully set the half-eaten fruit down and walked slowly over to her. His hand covered hers as he twirled her around to face him.

"Did you ask me what I think you did?" His voice was soft, patient. His breath washed over her cheeks like a gentle caress.

"Possibly."

"And why would you want to know something like that?"

"Because…"

"Because why?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

A flare of annoyance flashed across her eyes. With both of her hands, she pushed him backwards, letting her anger surface.

"Because I'm fucking tired of playing games with you! Because you're so dumb that you can't see that I have feelings for you, too! And because I want to be your damn girlfriend!" she spat at him, losing all of her former tenderness.

"You what?" His jaw dropped in confusion.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "It's a good thing you're dressed as Harry Potter and not as a Ravenclaw student. I get that you're book-smart, but it does _not_ take an intellect to figure out what I'm saying. Although, I _am_ disappointed you didn't get contacts. Harry has green eyes, not brown. You don't even have a lightening bolt scar! Nice attempt, Freddie, but you made some major mistakes."

He was too shocked by her latest statements to truly notice her declaration of love. He couldn't help the next question that slipped through his lips.

"Since when are you a _Harry Potter_ fan?"

"Since Carly forced me to go see the fourth movie because she had a crush on Cedric Diggory. As soon as we got home, I read through the books in the matter of a couple weeks. The rest is history."

His eyes glazed over. In addition to beauty, Sam was secret nerd. He didn't think anything was hotter than knowing that detail about her.

Snapping her fingers in front of his face, she called him to focus again. "You never responded to what I said."

"You want to…date…_me_?_"_ he stammered.

She sighed. "Yes, of course I do. I had some help to realize it, but yes."

"Why would you want _me_? I'm just a tech monkey to you." His voice quivered a tiny bit, fully displaying his insecurities.

She gently yanked on his scarf, pulling him in towards her. She purred into his ear, "Did I ever tell you I have a hidden kink for nerds? Especially ones that look like Harry Potter." Reaching up, she curled her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck.

He tried to keep his cool. More than anything, he could feel himself melting in her hands and into her gaze. If she kept stroking his hair like she was doing, he was sure he would fall apart at the seams.

He smirked. "Oh, you prefer Harry? Thought you'd be a Draco Malfoy fan."

"Well, he _is_ devious, but he's too high maintenance. I'm more into strong, brave Gryffindors." Her lips quirked into a sly smile. "You're not very Gryffindor-like, though. _Harry_ would have already asked me out."

"I guess I'm glad that I'm not The Savior of the Wizarding World. I believe it's your move, Ms. Puckett." He kept his voice stable as he threw the ball in her court.

She didn't answer him. Her lips did the talking when they touched his.

He leaned into her touch, while her fingers wove his hair, tugging slightly. Their mouths collided in unison, meshing together like they were puzzle pieces. Her tongue invaded his mouth, dominating it as she explored all of the crevices. Once he adjusted to the feel of it, his shy tongue met hers as they tangled and began a beautiful dance.

His hands moved down to clutch her waist, dragging her body even closer. He broke their current lip-lock to skim his lips along her jaw and down her throat, dotting the skin with small nips and open-mouthed kisses. His lips curved into a smile when loud moans escaped her amazing mouth.

"Now, you're getting bold," she gasped, throwing her head back to give him better access.

"Mhmm," he mumbled, continuing his action.

Eventually, Sam latched onto his shoulders to haul his lips back to hers. This time, they slowed down their kisses, taking the time to discover each other's mouths.

When air became a necessity, both teens reluctantly pulled away. Simultaneous pants sounded from them as their lungs relaxed with the renewed flow of oxygen. Their expressions mirrored each other's—it was combination of love, surprise, and plain happiness.

"So, does this make you Ginny?" Freddie teased.

She scrunched up her nose. "Ew, no. I'm more like Pansy Parkinson."

"Of course, a _Slytherin." _He playfully rolled his eyes. "I don't think Harry and Pansy make a very convincing couple, though."

"That," she said, kissing him once more. "Is a discussion for another day. Right now, we have candy to eat. And none of it is going to waste." Winking, she resumed her earlier activity of rummaging through the gigantic pile of sweets.

He laughed and stared at his charming, insane, and wonderful _girlfriend._ Stepping up beside her, he jammed his hand into the mass of sugar, hoping to pull out something good. Tilting his head, he took in Sam's profile and smiled.

It looked like Halloween was his new favorite holiday.

* * *

_**If you review, I'll make you a virtual candied apple :)**_


	3. Winter: Freddie's b-day, fireplace, lake

**A/N: **

_Not much to say other than enjoy the chapter! It is much shorter than the last two, though._

_Thanks again to anyone whose read, reviewed, followed, or favorited this story :)_

_Dedicated to my dear friend and FanFiction brother, **Moviepal**. Thanks for the prompt!_

**Disclaimer:**

_iCarly is the property of Dan Schneider. I own nothing. _

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: winter

Age: eighteen years old

Words: Freddie's birthday, fireplace, and frozen lake

* * *

The bitter, freezing air whipped against Freddie Benson's red-tinged cheeks. Burrowing into his thick, wool coat, he hurried along the snow covered path. Snowflakes danced around him in swirling patterns, decorating his face and hair in little bundles of iridescent powder. His boot-clad feet stamped into the white ground, creating heavy footprints.

He automatically wandered to the familiar place he always visited when he had to think. Freddie reached his destination in a matter of minutes, and he carefully made his way across the old wooden bridge. Walking to the middle, he dropped down and sat on the cold ground. He hung onto the handrail as he dangled his legs over the edge. Resting his chin on the bar, he glanced out at the lake. The surface was entirely encrusted in pure ice—dangerous, yet astoundingly beautiful.

His heart ached slightly when memories flooded his brain. He recalled his time in and on that lake. He remembered skating on it a few weeks ago, holding hands with his girlfriend of two years, Sam. He remembered swimming with her in the same waters during the summer.

The melancholy of the past turned to sudden anger. Biting his lip, he thought back to what had happened earlier today to explain his horrid mood.

* * *

Freddie woke with a start. The blinding sunlight streamed through the windows, causing his eyes to flutter open. Sitting up, he blinked the sleepiness away. He lifted his arms over his head to stretch and released a long yawn in the process. A giddiness overtook him when he realized today was _the_ day—his eighteenth birthday.

He knew he didn't feel any older, but merely the thought of being called an adult thrilled him. Finally, he could go out in the world and feel like he belonged. No more childish glances or looks. He was an _adult_, and to him, life started now.

Smiling, he quickly rolled out of bed and walked into the kitchen, only to be bombarded with a giant hug from his mother. The moment would have been sentimental, had it not been for the continual flow of tears that sprang from her eyes. The pajama shirt he was wearing became drenched in the salty water.

"My Freddie-bear is all grown up," she sobbed, clutching onto his body.

"Mom," Freddie choked out, trying to wiggle out of her iron-like grip. "Too tight."

"Sorry, honey-bunch." She released him, but kept him at arm's length.

"It's going to be all right, Mom," he reassured her, grinning softly. "I'm still me."

"I know." She dapped at her eyes with her sleeve. "But you're eighteen! And dear Lord, that frightens me." She laughed teasingly, but it was tinged with a slight amount of sadness.

"Everything will be _fine._ I'm not going to leave you just because I'm an adult now. I still have another year of school."

"Right you are." She leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Pulling back, she fixed him with a look of seriousness. "Well, you better get moving. It's _your_ day, and that means I'm not going to intervene. Of course, I'll beat anyone who dares to threaten or harm you in any way, but life is in your hands now."

"Really?" He sounded like a child on Christmas morning.

She smiled. "Really."

He practically jumped in mid-air. However, he couldn't help but feel somewhat suspicious. This seemed _too_ easy.

"I'm allowed to do anything I want?" He raised an eyebrow in wonder.

"Yes, as long as it's not illegal or damaging to yourself or others. I told you, you're a grown up."

"You are seriously the best mom ever." He crushed her in a hug of his own.

"And don't you forget it," she sassed, smoothing down his hair. Reluctantly, she pushed him away a minute later. "Go! You have a big day ahead of you. I am expecting to come to your birthday dinner, though. I'm sure the Shay siblings will be hosting a celebration." With a wink, she disappeared, leaving him alone to ponder his decisions for the day.

As it turned out, Freddie wasn't sure what to do with his new found freedom. He figured he had the rest of his life to take risks, so he didn't dive headfirst into anything out of the ordinary. He checked the iCarly site to fix any maintenance problems, watched Galaxy Wars with Spencer (Gibby dropped by and viewed the saga as well), and simply chatted with Carly over smoothies. His happiness shot up when he discovered that they were indeed going to throw him a birthday party.

The thing that concerned him the most was that Sam was nowhere to be found. He texted her, called her several times, and stopped by her house. Nothing. Carly couldn't even reach her, which surprised them both. Freddie panicked for hours, wondering if his girlfriend was dead in an alleyway somewhere. He only felt better when Carly told him that it was _Sam._ The girl could take on any serial killer possible.

Still, his anxiety never truly dissipated. Not only was he alarmed, but he was _pissed_. She knew his birthday—knew how much it meant to him that she at least acknowledged the fact. But nothing. He didn't know whether to be flaming angry and chew her out when he next saw her, or depressed because she just wanted to ignore the date.

By the time evening fell, Freddie didn't want to attend his own party. Nevertheless, he trudged to his brunette best friend's apartment and made it his goal to at least act like it was the best day ever. Underneath his façade, he found it very difficult to enjoy the celebration he was given. It really was magnificent—the cake, the decorations, the food, and the presents. He wanted to love every part of it, but he couldn't find it in him to even give real smile. His jaw ached from having to plaster a fake one on.

Despite his inner turmoil, Freddie kept his spirits up throughout the entire meal. He felt like he deserved an Oscar for fooling everyone in the room into thinking that he was having the time of his life.

The worst part about it, however, was blowing out the candles. He could have wished for anything, but in reality, he just wanted Sam to be there. He simply closed his eyes, thought of the most random thing in existence, and dowsed the flickering flames out with one big breath.

After departing from the Shay's, he briefly spoke with his mother about taking a walk. Even though her eyes clearly said no, she bit her tongue and agreed. With one final glance, he vanished from Bushwell Plaza, ready to trek through the miles of snow surrounding Seattle.

* * *

Freddie had been staring at the frozen lake for nearly a half an hour. Subjecting himself to the outside world hadn't really helped, but at least he was able to clear his head to the tiniest of degrees. He understood that his body couldn't take much more of the stinging weather, so he leapt up from his spot. Grumbling, he journeyed back to his dwelling space. Maybe he could curl up in his bed with a cup of hot chocolate and read the magazine on his nightstand, _Technology World._

When he reached his apartment, he typed in the incredibly long code as to not set off the alarm system. As soon as he was safely inside, he surveyed the place for his mother. She lay on the couch, head planted on a comfortable looking pillow. She seemed fast asleep, so he silently shucked off his wet clothing and hung on the coat hook by the door.

He chose to visit his bedroom first, sans hot chocolate. If he really wanted it later, he would have to prepare it himself. Right now, he just wanted to fall into a deep slumber like his mother. As quietly as he could, he shuffled across the floor and swung open his door.

His jaw dropped when he found a particular blonde lounging on his bed, flipping through the newest issue of _Technology World._ A small squeak left his mouth, which made her glance up at him. There was a certain tenderness in her sapphire eyes, while a slow smile spread itself across her rosy lips.

"Hello," she whispered, rising from her position.

He clamped his mouth shut, but kept his jaw tense. Holding his hands at his sides in clenched fists, he growled, "What the hell are you doing here?"

An unrecognizable emotion flashed in her eyes, but was gone in an instant. It almost looked like remorse. Almost. She cleared her throat, and her voice came out as equally soft as the first time, albeit a little hoarser.

"I wanted to see you."

"You could have seen me all day, Sam." His tone was sharp enough to physically cut through her skin.

She sighed. "Look, Freddie, I know—"

"Don't you dare give me excuses," he barked, stepping closer. He jabbed a finger near her, but not close enough to touch. "Don't you fucking say that you were too busy to come over and wish me happy birthday. You could have at least called and told me where you were, but no, Sam doesn't play that way. I was worried sick about you! So, save it. I'm not in the mood to hear the bullshit you're bound to give me." After the end of his speech, he was out of breath. He hadn't meant to shout—it all just spilled out of him in a rush.

Instead of answering him, she sighed and turned away to reach underneath the bed. Pulling out a large box, she shoved it into his hands.

"Here," she muttered, casting her eyes to the ground to avoid meeting his cold, unforgiving gaze. "This was why I didn't come earlier. I had to make sure it was all right before you got it."

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"Did you really think I'd forget?" She sounded wounded.

"No, but…"

"You think that after two years of being together that I would suddenly stop caring about you? That I'd decide to ignore your eighteenth birthday when I knew it meant so much to you?"

When he didn't respond, she smiled sadly. "I guess I've got my answer. Goodbye, Freddie. And happy birthday." She leaned in briefly to brush her lips to his cheek. With a final wave, she spun around to exit through the fire escape, but one of Freddie's hands grabbed her before she could depart.

"Wait," he said.

"What? You wanted me to leave, and that's what I'm doing."

"You forgot something."

She stared at him in confusion, but when she felt a slight pressure on her lips, she allowed her eyes to fall closed. He kissed her in earnest, allowing his lips to dance across hers. He kept it gentle and loving; no hard nips or teasing touches. The few moments of bliss were cut short when he broke their lip-lock.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "I didn't know. I just assumed you didn't want to see me."

"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I suppose it didn't work out as planned."

"At least you're here now." He pressed a soft kiss to her nose and bent his head to nuzzle her neck.

She giggled quietly. "Yes, that's true."

"Can I open my present now?" he asked eagerly, abruptly changing the subject.

Nodding, she giggled once more. "Of course."

He reluctantly released his hold on her and maneuvered himself to the bed to lay the box down. It was fairly heavy, which perked his curiosity. Gingerly, he tore at the paper surrounding the gift until his fingers found a sleek briefcase-like container. He raised an eyebrow, wondering on earth was inside. Unhooking the latch, he nearly gasped at the sight.

An obsidian colored Divaglio laptop was in the center, incased in thick foam. It shone brilliantly as the light hit it, causing Freddie's heart to soar.

"Sam, w-what—how did you—I don't understand," he stuttered, blushing furiously.

She shrugged. "I told you that's what I was doing today. The company didn't get the order finished on time, so I had to go the store and watch them build the rest of it. Trust me, I was _not_ a happy camper after I stood there for about five hours."

He looked longingly at the computer for a moment before turning to gaze at her. The expression on his face softened.

"You didn't need to buy me laptop, Sam. Hell, you didn't even need to get me anything. You being here is all that matters."

Her azure eyes glinted with mischief. "So, you want me to take it back?"

"No!"

She chuckled. "That's what I thought."

It suddenly dawned on him. How could she possibly afford a piece of technological equipment such as this? Guilt immediately washed over him for accusing his girlfriend, but Sam Puckett was definitely not known for her money.

"It's not stolen, is it?" He pitched his voice lower to try and hide the concern.

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't steal it. Hard as it is to imagine, I do occasionally have cash. A check gets sent to me every couple of months from some rich relatives on my dad's side. The reason I haven't spent any of the money is because I've been saving up so I could get you the Divaglio."

"You did _this_ for me? But why?"

She laughed like it was most obvious thing in the world. "I love you. That's why."

At her words, a gasp left his mouth. His head felt like spinning in a million circles.

This was the first time she had ever said it aloud. He had spoken those exact words to her countless times in their two years together, but never once did he get them in return. He reminded himself each time that she just wasn't ready. But it seemed like she was now.

The response was automatic. "I love you, too."

"Don't get sappy on me, Benson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Puckett." He stuck his tongue out, which made her laugh again. "You know," he put in casually, "I haven't touched one of these since the whole Tech-Foot incident."

"I know. I figured you had had enough of a withdrawal." Her tone was light, and he found that it was much more appealing than her usual sardonic attitude.

"Hey, you were gone for more than five hours. What did you do with the rest of your time?" he wondered suspiciously, eyeing her.

She held her hands up in surrender. "If you must know, I went back to my house with your laptop to load some pictures onto it. I set up your password, too."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Here, try it out." She motioned towards the tantalizing device. "C'mon, I know you want to."

He very carefully hoisted the object out of its case, admiring the feel of glossiness that slid along his fingertips. He gently lifted the top and pushed the button to start it. Immediately, colors began popping up on the screen.

Shaking his head, he restrained himself from blurting out a dorky comment about the beauty of it. Instead, he settled for, "What's the password?"

"'I love Sam P.'"

He smiled and keyed in the phrase. "How appropriate."

"Well, it's fitting. What's even more fitting is the screensaver." She winked and watched him intently when the main screen opened.

The picture was of them on the day they went skating on the lake. It was taken after the event, but their cheeks were still flushed from the activity, and their hair and clothes were dusted in glistening, white snow. Freddie had wrapped Sam in a tight hug from behind, and his chin rested on her shoulder. Their matching smiles in the photograph said it all: best day ever.

"I love it," he confirmed. "It's perfect."

"Good. That's not the coolest thing on there, though."

"Oh? And what might that be?" He lifted an eyebrow in interest.

"Let me show you." She took the device from him, hit a few keys, and handed it over for him to witness what she'd done.

A crackling fire glowed back at him, appearing as if it were actually there.

"Since you don't have a real fireplace and have missed out on that simple joy in life, I made sure the company put in a feature that included one," she explained.

"Well, now that I have a decent substitute, how about you stay and enjoy it with me?" His eyes glimmered with innocence, but his silky voice was anything but.

"Deal."

She threw herself into his arms, while the fake fire buzzed in the background. As Freddie's lips melted against Sam's, he thought about how sweet it was to be eighteen.

* * *

_**If you drop a review, I may buy you a Divaglio :)**_


	4. Winter: snow, ice, and mouth wash

**A/N: **

_I've noticed that everything is in Freddie's POV at this point, so I decided to switch it up and see what Sam's thoughts are like. Chapter 4 awaits you!_

_Thanks to my lovely readers who have stuck with this story :) Love you all! _

_Dedicated to_ _**MegColes.**__Thanks for the prompt!_

**Disclaimer:**

_*Sigh* Dang. I still don't own iCarly. Unfortunately, Mr. Dan Schneider hasn't given me the rights yet. _

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: winter

Age: twenty-two years old

Words: snow, ice, and mouthwash

* * *

Sam twirled the martini glass in her hand and stared out of the window. The night was frosty, coating the surface of the window in thick, icy crystals. There was a bit of airflow through the crack, and even though she was wearing a cozy sweater, she felt a shiver pass through her.

She took a sip of her holiday drink, which tasted strongly of peppermint schnapps. Deciding that she was going to be there a while, she leaned against the wall. Her gaze never left the midnight sky, even though a flurry of activity was happening behind her. The partygoers all mingled, chatting animatedly with one another with some of the finest alcoholic beverages in hand. It was obvious to everyone that Carly Shay sure knew how to throw a New Year's Eve party.

Sam appreciated Carly's hospitality, but she desperately wished she didn't feel so lonely. While her best friend had spoken with her some this evening, she seemed far too busy with the other guests to notice Sam's quietness.

Ever since Carly had moved to New York City, she had turned into a social butterfly. Every weekend was filled with new people attending celebrations in her chic apartment. Sam wasn't sure how she felt about the brunette's heightened sense of popularly; she had seen it enough in high school, and having to witness a second time was sort of wounding.

It wasn't that Sam was bitter about Carly's new friends; she knew deep down that no one could replace her in her best friend's heart. They had been each other's half for so long that nothing could truly tear them apart. What did bother the blonde, though, was the distance that separated them.

After graduating from Ridgeway, they decided to live on separate ends of the country to go to their respective universities. Columbia University had been Carly's number one choice, and when she finally received the acceptance letter, she nearly went into hysterics.

Sam, on the other hand, didn't really have preference for any college—she was willing to attend any place that had decent programs. She applied to a few top notch ones, on the off chance that they would be crazy enough to accept her. She was prepared to feel ecstatic if University of Washington or UCLA wanted her. Not only did they want her, so did Stanford. Sam Puckett, slacker extraordinaire, made it into Stanford University. There were many questions aimed at her as to _how _she managed to score such a prestigious position. She personally didn't know how to take the news—she remained in denial for weeks before she wrote them back and said they could have her soul.

She was currently residing in quiet town in California, having just finished with Stanford. She received a bachelor's degree in clinical psychology, and at the moment, was working in a mental health facility, while attending graduate school. Sam felt _happy_ where she was—sure, her life was simple, but she knew she couldn't handle Carly's hectic schedule.

However, one of the most difficult parts Sam faced daily was dealing with the absence of Freddie. It had been a long time since they had seen each other (Freddie lived in Massachusetts and was wrapping up his last year at M.I.T.). He was always too booked to visit either Carly or Sam. The former usually didn't have a problem with it, but the latter did. To Sam, they were still friends, even though they had broken up years ago.

Sam glanced at her half empty drink and sighed. The peppermint flavor reminded her of him. During Freddie's adolescent years, he had developed an unhealthy obsession with all things peppermint. His breath smelled like peppermint (or maybe it was because he used copious amounts of Scope), his cologne was faintly tinged with it, his body wash was loaded with the aroma, and he even wore chap-stick that was designed to be the mintiest of all.

Speaking of his chap-stick, Sam couldn't help but picture his incredibly kissable lips. She hated the fact that New Year's was the holiday made for making out, and yet, she had no one to enjoy it with. But she didn't want just anyone. She wanted _him._

Of course, she knew he was off gallivanting in Massachusetts, chasing after his computer engineering degree. On top of everything else, he probably had an extremely intelligent and gorgeous girlfriend who he was constantly waiting hand and foot on.

Sam shook her head to clear it of all the spinning thoughts. It was New Year's Eve after all, and she wanted to at least have some fun. The ball drop was scheduled to happen in half an hour, but everyone at the party planned on catching it on TV.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she searched for Carly. She found the brunette chatting with a group of partygoers near the fireplace. Placing the glass on the nearby table, she gently tapped her best friend's shoulder.

"Hey, I'm going to get moving," she said.

Carly's brown eyes widened. "What? But the party just got started!"

"I know. I'm not really in a celebratory mood, Carls. Sorry." She frowned and patted Carly's arm. "We can meet tomorrow, okay? My flight doesn't leave until very late at night, so we have the whole day together."

"Okay." She pouted, but nodded. "You need to tell me what's wrong tomorrow. I know you way better than that, Sam." She muttered the last part so quietly that only the blonde could hear.

"Deal." She threw her arms around the hostess in a tight hug. "Thanks for inviting me to your bash. You always throw the best ones."

Carly released her, beaming. "Why, thank you." She curtsied briefly before saying, "Should I call you a cab?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

Ten minutes later, Sam stepped out of the warm taxi and into the chilly, freezing air. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and added an extra button on her coat. Her boot-clad feet stamped through the snow, while she managed to sneak through the millions of people that were located in New York's most popular spot: Times Square.

The sights were enough to make Sam's senses spin out of control. There were so many twinkling lights, music blared all around, and people covered every square inch of space. This was Sam's first time venturing out to Times Square, and to be truthful, it was all quite dizzying.

After encountering rather strange and _loud _people, she was able to make her way safely to a corner that wasn't occupied by a ton of individuals. She backed herself into the confined space and looked up. From a distance, she could see the stage where a live band was playing. She listened, bobbing her head in time with the rhythm of the song.

"May I join you?" A voice asked beside her.

She didn't remove her eyes from the platform where the entertainers were crooning out lyrics.

"Sure." She shifted over slightly, allowing the person to sidle in next to her. She could tell it was a man from the sound of his voice, but even then it was difficult to hear above the noise of the music.

"So, are you excited to watch the infamous ball drop live?" he asked conversationally.

"Yup."

He sighed, which caused puffs of cold air to escape his mouth. "Look at me, please." It was more of a demand than anything else.

She furrowed her brows. "Why? I don't know you." She still kept her gaze trained on the stage.

"Yes, you do. Look at me, Sam."

Once he spoke her name, she whipped her head to the right to find familiar brown orbs staring back at her.

"Freddie?"

He nodded. "Sam," he breathed.

"How—why—what?" she stuttered.

"I was going to go to Carly's party, but I lost the address. I've been wandering around the city trying to find it, but I finally gave up after a while. Anyway, I saw you walking over here, so I decided to say hi," he explained, cheeks flushing from the chilly wind.

She composed herself from the initial shock. "You could have called."

He shrugged. "I lost my phone a few days ago, and I haven't had the time to go get a new one yet."

She didn't know how to respond because _god,_ it felt awkward seeing him for the first time in ages.

"What are you doing here?" He pointed to her. "Thought you'd be with Carly."

"I left. Didn't feel like partying with everyone."

His lips curved into a small frown and concern clouded his dark eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No. I'm fine, really. California is great, I love my job, and I'm _happy._ I just wish distance wasn't my enemy."

"Understandable. Missing Carly, hm?" He stuck his hands in his coat pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes, but that's not the only thing." Her voice was guarded and she cast her eyes away from his face so he couldn't scrutinize her.

"Oh? What might the second thing be?" he wondered amusedly, keeping the subject light.

"Nothing of importance." There was no inflection in her tone. She knew if she opened up even the slightest bit, he would realize _he_ was what she was talking about.

He nudged her. "C'mon, you should tell me. It's not like I'm gonna judge you."

She gave a nervous laugh. "Right. You prejudge everything, Freddie."

"I do not!"

"You do, too."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Why won't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just drop it, all right?"

Grimacing, he shook his head. "No. I want to know what else you miss."

"Why do _you_ care? It's not like anything is going to change."

"How do you know? Maybe if you tell me, things might."

"You have no clue what you're talking about! You don't know what's bothering me!"

He took a step closer, reaching out to touch her face. He cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his head so that they were eye-level.

"I'd say that I do have an idea. I know you a lot better than you think. I just want to hear you say it." His breath ghosted over her lips, and she felt a tingle from the bottom of her toes to the tip of her head.

"No," she replied defiantly.

"Say it."

"No!"

"Fine, then I guess I'll have to do this."

He pulled her forward until their lips met in a crushing kiss. Sam was vaguely aware of the loud shouts of, "Happy New Year!" that seemed to ring from every corner. But her only concern at the moment was kissing Freddie Benson. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched his body to hers, almost as if she was afraid that if she didn't, he would slip away.

When they finally broke apart for air, she panted, "You. I miss you."

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. "That's what I wanted to hear."

Despite the fairytale moment, a sudden sadness swept through Sam. She knew this was too good to be true.

"When do you leave?" she murmured.

He sighed. "Tomorrow morning."

She made a movement to go, but before she could successfully escape, he grabbed onto her hand.

The warmth from the contact caused her body to shake. She felt trapped by his eyes, which seemed to smolder under the florescent lights surrounding them.

"Don't go," he croaked.

"You're leaving tomorrow. There's no point." Her lower lip trembled slightly.

"We have tonight together. I know it's not a lot, but at least it's something." He remained calm, but his eyes were pleading.

She shook her head. "Not good enough. I don't do one-night stands or casual flings."

"Who says this has to be a onetime deal?"

She looked at him sternly. "We tried this before, and it didn't work. Not to mention, distance is a problem now."

"Sam," he whispered, dragging her towards him. "You're not running away this time. You ran away from me before, and I'm not letting you go a second time. I _don't_ care if there are miles between us. We'll figure it out somehow. Look, I came to New York to find _you_. Carly's party was the perfect excuse for me to even show up."

"I don't understand. You have everything that you could ever want in Massachusetts. Why does seeing me make a difference?"

"It makes a difference because I miss you, too."

Those few words were enough for Sam. She leaned in to kiss him soundly, not caring how messed up the situation was. There were a million questions and doubts swirling in her head, but at the moment, they were completely irrelevant.

"Stay with me tonight," Freddie begged after they pulled apart.

"Okay," Sam agreed, tucking her head underneath his chin. Her ear lay right next to his heart, and soft thumping soothed her nerves.

His hand touched her hair and he threaded his fingers through it. He was somewhat aware that it had started snowing, and small flecks of white began raining on them, coating their hair, faces, and clothes. But he didn't seem to notice because holding Sam like his life depended on it was the only thing that held his interest.

"Freddie?" she asked several minutes later.

"Hm?"

"You need more mouthwash," she giggled.

He blushed. "That was a childhood obsession!" he protested weakly.

Rolling her eyes, she let out a snort. "Right."

"It was! I don't use that much peppermint in anything now."

"Well, lucky for you, I brought Scope with me. It's in my hotel room." She glanced up at him and winked.

"Then I guess I have to go track down this bottle." He smiled, leaning down to drop a kiss to her forehead. "Let's go, Princess."

Taking a hold of his hand, Sam smiled in return. Lacing their fingers together, they scooted out from their spot and walked all the way back to the hotel while snow sprinkled around them.

* * *

_**If you review, maybe you'll get lucky on New Year's, too ;)**_


	5. Spring: Easter, confusion, arguments

**A/N:**

_Hey, again. I was going to make this chapter more dramatic than it actually is, but I decided that Sam and Freddie need a little bit of fluff every now and then. This one was my favorite to write so far. Enjoy!_

_Please keep sending those prompts in; I may be slow with updates, but I promise I'll get around to writing your one-shot! _

_A million thanks to my lovely readers :) You guys make my day. _

_Dedicated to __**Guest. **__(I really wish you had an account, so I could thank you properly via PM). Thanks for the prompt!_

**Disclaimer:**

_Nope, that darn Schneider still has the rights to iCarly. I'm trying to plot and scheme my way into his office one day to get them. Wish me luck!_

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: spring

Age: sixteen years old

Words: Easter, denial/confusion, and arguments

* * *

She **hated** him.

She **hated** the way his brown eyes sparkled when he teased her.

She **hated **the way his laugh could be deep and rumbling, or as soft as a melody.

She **hated** that whenever she was upset, he would always look at her with concern. It drove her crazy that for just that split second, she could imagine he felt something other than pure hatred for her.

She **hated **that every time he spoke to a girl—it didn't matter which one—her heart would shatter briefly before mending itself.

She **hated **everything about him. But mostly, she hated the confusion she felt whenever he was around.

* * *

He **hated **her.

He** hated** the way her rosy red lips curved into a stunning smile when she beat him relentlessly or called him names.

He **hated** her azure eyes that glowed with emotion when she least expected them to.

He **hated** how adorable she looked when was determined. There was nothing that could stand in her way when she wanted something, and seeing the life in her eyes as she tried to overcome her obstacle was enough to drive him insane.

He **hated **that whenever she wasn't hanging out with him and their brunette best friend, there was a possibility she could be with some other _guy._ He wanted nothing more than to beat the second male into a pulp.

He **hated** everything about her. But mostly, he hated the doubts that were constantly circling in his mind.

* * *

"You have a problem, Sam," Carly stated, moving around the island to stand next to her blonde best friend.

"No, I don't." Said blonde glanced at the computer screen in front of her, concentrating on reading the new iCarly comments left on their webpage.

"Yes, you do." Carly gently touched her shoulder. "Stop that. Just look at me."

Cerulean orbs hesitantly met brown ones. Sam shifted uncomfortably in the chair under the scrutinizing gaze of the ever persistent Carly Shay.

"What's your deal, Carls?" Sam's voice was as sharp as razor knives.

She sighed. "You _like_ him."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Frustration flared in the brunette's eyes. "Stop that. You like him."

"Who's _him_?"

"Freddie."

Sam's eyes narrowed into angry slits, and a breath of irritation left her mouth. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"You're wrong. Freddie is _nothing _to me. I **hate **him with a passion."

"No, I'm one hundred percent right. You need to stop hiding behind those walls you build. Do us all a favor and admit your feelings to yourself and to him. It's not healthy to hold it in any longer, Sam. Every day that you don't tell him is a day that you're hurting yourself," Carly said softly.

Sam closed her eyes, trying to calm down her nerves. As much as she loved her best friend, she really wanted to hit her for evoking these emotions. She drew out a long breath, willing her heart to stop racing.

When she relaxed enough to speak, she replied in a firm voice, "No. You're _wrong._ Freddie…he's far from anyone I could ever like."

"Why? You're not into sweet, handsome, and intelligent guys?" Carly arched an eyebrow.

She scoffed. "He's none of those things. He's a nerd_,_ he's wimpy, he loves being in control of everything, he listens to his mother way too much, and he's _too_ nice."

"Too nice?"

Sam blanched. "He doesn't have a backbone, which is why he always gets taken advantage of. He doesn't know how to stand up for himself," she amended, hiding her embarrassment with a cough.

"Right. Of course." The brunette rolled her eyes, deciding that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this at the moment.

"It doesn't matter what you say," Sam put in. "I have never felt anything but hatred towards him, and that's never going to change."

Carly sighed once more, shaking her head. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when your heart breaks because you're too late. A guy like him can get any girl, so I'd watch your back."

* * *

"Freddie, you're in trouble, man," Brad announced, removing a tray from the oven, which contained a row of delicately hand-crafted chocolates.

Freddie leaned against the counter in his best friend's parents' candy shop. He raised a brow in puzzlement.

"What did I do?"

Brad set the tray down on the cooling rack and removed the mitts from his hands. In the most casual manner he said, "You fell for Sam, and you're not doing a single thing about it."

He looked taken aback. "What did you just say?"

"Don't play dumb," he chuckled.

"I'm not. I have no idea what you're talking about."

iCarly's new intern wondered how Freddie could be so gifted in academics, but so clueless in other areas of life.

"You _like_ Sam Puckett. I, for one, think it's kind of sweet. She's a cool girl—very funny, and she sure knows how to knock you out if you piss her off. She sort of scares me, but hey, if you're into her, all the more to you." He reached for the small spatula to scoop up the tiny morsels.

"Dude, you've got it wrong. I **hate **Sam. Always have."

"You really are playing dumb." He continued his work and placed the chocolates on a glass plate.

"How? I'm telling you the truth. She annoys the hell out of me. She's messy, she's rude, she and I can't have an intelligent conversation about anything other than food, she enjoys emotionally and physically abusing me—which is just messed up, I might add—and she's _too_ protective of herself."

"Too protective of herself?"

"Yeah. She builds walls to block out people because she doesn't trust them. She's afraid to ever get close to anyone. I wish she'd learn to let go once in a while."

"You could break down those walls, you know. I have a feeling you fell for the real Sam beneath the surface."

"I haven't fallen for her! She is exactly the opposite of the type of girl I would date," Freddie growled.

"You're not into chicks who are beautiful, independent, and are willing to joke around because they're not afraid to be silly?"

"That's not Sam," he reasoned.

Brad sighed, carefully lifting a piece of chocolate from the plate. He handed it to Freddie, who snatched it up quickly. He was about to bite down on it when Brad interrupted him.

"Look, I know you won't listen to me. It's your life, and you're one who calls the shots. I'm just saying that it's not a good thing that you keep denying your feelings. I know it's hard to tell her because there's a chance she doesn't feel the same way. It's worth the risk, though. _She's_ worth the risk."

iCarly's technical producer snorted, popping the delectable treat into his mouth. Crossing his arms, he said, "Yeah, right. She'd be worth it if I actually felt that way about her. Which I clearly _don't._"

Brad threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Fine. Don't come whining to me when you miss your chance with her. A girl like that is sure to get any guy she wants. You're on your own now."

* * *

Sam sat on the shore of the lake, tossing pebbles into the crystal clear water. Gentle waves lapped at her feet, and she relished the cool feel of it. The soothing spring breeze ruffled her hair a bit, causing her to button the cardigan that loosely hung around her body. Her gaze floated towards the sunset, which was painting the sky in gorgeous shades of pink and orange.

The whole sight was picturesque, but Sam couldn't appreciate her peaceful surroundings. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth as she continued throwing the tiny stones. Her head ached slightly because a million thoughts tumbled around in there.

It had only been a week since Carly called her out on the whole Freddie issue. Ever since then, Sam couldn't stop thinking about it.

_Stupid Carly_, she thought bitterly. _Making me question everything. I __**hate **__Freddork. There is absolutely nothing that I find likeable about him. His eyes are NOT brown like chocolate and do they NOT smolder, he is NOT sweet and charming, and he is NOT exactly what I'm looking for. _

But as Sam turned that over in her mind, all rationality seemed to slip away. She wanted to smash her head against something hard to end the pain. She wanted to dive into the chilly water that swayed before her, and have it whisk her into a world without doubts or worries. She wanted to not be confused. Of course, she knew the saying, "You can't always get what you want."

It didn't help that today was Easter, a time to spend with other people. And here she was, sitting alone by the lake. Her mother never did anything for the holiday, and the Shays usually dined together while on the phone with their father. It never bothered her that no one would see her on this day, but today was an exception.

She wanted company. Not just any company. She wanted an aggravating, goody-two-shoes nub that could automatically launch into some drawn out explanation of anything technological in the world.

She tried to convince herself that he had to be there so she could torment him, but deep down in her soul, she knew that wasn't the reason. She couldn't figure out the actual answer, and it bothered her a lot more than she cared to believe.

Her mind flitted through memories about him to try and solve the big mystery. Why was he constantly invading her thoughts? She **hated** him, and it made no sense whatsoever that he continued to be the center her attention.

When her memory bank came across a specific one of him during Easter, she smiled. She let herself wander down memory lane as she lay down on the soft ground, allowing her eyes to drift shut.

* * *

"_Give me those back!" six-year-old Freddie Benson shouted, running on his chubby legs to catch up with a particular blonde haired girl. _

"_No way!" the girl responded, racing through the park and past dozens of trees. She carried the basket carefully, making sure not to jostle the plastic Easter eggs full of candy and other goodies. _

"_I got those fair and square! Give them back," Freddie whimpered desperately, continuing to chase after the little hellion. _

"_They're mine now. You can't have them," Sam ground out, picking up her speed. _

"_You stole them!"_

_Freddie had enough courage to sprint faster than he had ever before, and finally, he met up with the bane of his existence. He came up behind her and pushed her to the ground. _

"_Oof," she said, landing on the grass, still clutching the basket. She glared up at him, set the eggs aside, and stood up to her full height. She was taller than he was and a lot meaner, too. Her blue eyes narrowed, and without thinking, she shoved him. _

_The fall didn't harm him because the grass was a nice cushion, but he was angry. "I __**hate **__you, Sam!" he screamed. _

_She stuck her tongue out, raising the Easter prize in her hands. _

"_I __**hate **__you more." _

_Freddie made himself get up, brushing off any dirt that may have clung to his clothes. His lower lip trembled as he retorted, "I'm telling Mama! You stole my eggs, and I want them back." _

_Sam rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault you weren't watching them." _

"_But they're mine! I want them back!"_

"_Nope. But I can give you something else." _

_The blonde had had enough of his complaints. To shut him up, she connected her hand with his face. The slap shouldn't have hurt him (she was only six, after all), but suddenly, Freddie started wailing. _

"_Waaaa! She hit me, she hit me!" _

_Sam realized what she had done, and almost regretted it. She hadn't meant to make him cry, just to make him stop whining. Not wanting to get into any more trouble, she decided to amend things. She took a step closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on the cheek that she'd slapped. _

"_Sorry," she whispered. _

_A blush immediately colored his entire face. "It's okay," he mumbled. _

_In order to create a little peace, she handed him an egg. "You can have one," she explained. _

_He smiled and was about to thank her when she said, "But I still __**hate**__ you."_

* * *

Freddie's feet stamped through the thick forest floor. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pocket, and as he continued on the path, he hoped to find the answer to his question: how did he feel about Sam Puckett?

A week ago, he would have said he totally detested her. That he **hated **every part of her. Of course, that was before stupid Bradley Harrison intervened and made him start to think. He really wasn't sure how he felt, and it bothered him that he couldn't figure it out very easily.

The light breeze and the sunset were the only things comforting him at the moment. He couldn't even enjoy the day in its entirety. Earlier in the evening, he dined with his mother, and instead of a real Easter dinner with eggs and ham, he ate extremely healthy, but disgusting tasting food. His stomach rumbled from the lack of an actual meal.

Carly had offered to have him over, but he knew he couldn't abandon his mom. He told his female best friend he would stop by later, after taking a walk to clear his head. The reason to clear his head, of course, had to deal with what Brad had mentioned.

_Stupid Brad,_ he thought angrily. _Making me doubt everything. I __**hate **__Sam. She's a menace, and there is nothing I find remotely attractive or nice about her. Her eyes do NOT catch my attention, especially because they have a habit of showing every emotion she's feeling, her emotional and physical strengths are NOT admirable, and she is NOT exactly what I'm looking for._

But as Freddie concentrated on the negatives about her, he realized that even doing that meant he was thinking about her. As crazy as it sounded, he wanted a bear to jump out and maul him so that he could be put out of his misery. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a good idea—he had no clue how he'd explain that to his mother.

At the moment, he wanted someone to walk alongside him. He didn't want just anyone, though. He wanted a certain blonde haired demon who would yell at him for being 'nubbish' and who could tell him where to get the best ham in the whole city.

He tried to imagine why he wanted her with him. He was almost certain it was because he had grown accustomed to her annoying habits, and that it would be odd without her interfering with his life. Deep down in his heart, he knew he was sugar-coating it, but he was still unsure of the reason.

His mind sifted through memories about her to search for his answer. When his memory bank found a specific one of her during Easter, he grinned. Shuffling along the road, he allowed his brain to take over and completely drown in him in all things related to Samantha Puckett.

* * *

"_Give me those back!" Freddie whined, pumping his short legs to catch up with the demanding, evil six-year-old girl. He kept his gaze on the object in her hands: a basket full of candy filled Easter eggs. _

"_No way!" she shouted above the noise of the wind, racing through the park and past dozens of trees. _

"_I got those fair and square! Give them back," he yelled, continuing his pursuit of the small hellion with curly blonde hair. _

_Samantha Puckett, the girl who lived to make his life miserable, laughed sarcastically. "They're mine now. You can't have them." _

"_You stole them!"_

_That was it. Freddie was tired of having to deal with her, so with all the strength and bravery he could muster, he sprinted after her. When he finally reached the bane of his existence, he quietly snuck behind her to push her body to the ground. _

"_Oof," she said, landing on the grass, still clutching the basket. From her position on the grass, she seemed even more threatening than usual. He caught her eyes as she glared up at him. Standing up, she rose to her full height and tossed the eggs aside. _

_Freddie swallowed. She looked downright terrifying when she stared him down. Her blue eyes focused on his brown ones, and the next thing he knew, he was on sprawled on the ground. _

_He wasn't really hurt—the grass cushioned his fall. However, anger surged through him as he screamed, "I __**hate **__you, Sam!" _

_She stuck her tongue out at him, raising Easter prize in her hands. She was on full-on gloating mode now. _

"_I __**hate **__you more." _

_Freddie forced himself to face her, so he carefully got up and brushed off any dirt that may have ended up on his clothes. He tried not to let any part of his vulnerability show through, but his lower lip moved slightly as he said, "I'm telling Mama! You stole my eggs, and I want them back." _

_Sam rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault you weren't watching them." _

"_But they're mine! I want them back!"_

"_Nope. But I can give you something else." _

_In the next instant, Freddie felt a sting coming from his right cheek. She had slapped him! He was initially too shocked to respond, but then his eyes started tearing up. He opened his mouth and wailed, "Waaaa! She hit me, she hit me!" _

_He stood in that one spot, crying his heart out. It had hurt, and she wasn't even apologizing. He knew that she really was a hellion. He glanced at her, and was surprised to find a tiny bit of remorse in her eyes. She came closer to him, making his heart pound in fear for what she'd do next. However, he relaxed when soft lips touched his injured cheek. _

"_Sorry," she whispered. _

_Both of his cheeks suddenly were warm. "It's okay," he mumbled shyly. Then, he felt a sensation and noticed that an egg had been thrust into his hand. _

"_You can have one," she explained. _

_He smiled, grateful for her action. Before a proper 'thank you' could leave his mouth, he was interrupted. _

_She let out an amused laugh. "But I still __**hate**__ you."_

* * *

The sound of crunching leaves made Sam's eyes flutter open. Light flooded her vision, and she had to blink several times to adjust to it. She sat up slowly, then gasped when her eyes landed on the person in front of her.

Freddie stood sheepishly near the blonde, rubbing the back of his neck. He had no idea she was there—or that forest he was in was going to end back at the lake. He had never taken the route before, so he was just as surprised as she was.

Both teens remained frozen in their spots, too frightened by the other to move. Finally after what seemed like a century, Sam cleared her throat.

"Why are you here? I don't have your Easter eggs today." She tried to be funny, but it sounded strangled for some reason.

A small smile appeared on Freddie's lips. "I was out for a walk, and I didn't know the path that I took led here. Lucky for you, I wasn't expecting any eggs today."

An awkward silence hung in the air after he finished his thought. Their gazes met wearily, but neither person could look away. After a few more minutes, Freddie sighed.

"You do have something of mine, though. I want it back," he said.

Sam arched a brow in question. "What could I possibly have? I didn't steal anything."

"My heart."

"Your _what_?"

"You have it. I want it back, Sam," Freddie answered firmly, inching forward. He sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"What—what are you talking about?"

He sighed once more. "I wish I knew. I don't understand what this is, Sam. I **hate **you, and you **hate **me. It's been that way forever. But now….I just don't know anymore."

She moved her eyes away from his face. Picking up a stone, she tossed it into the water. It landed on the surface with a soft _plop_ before quickly sinking.

"I don't know, either," she muttered.

"Do you—do you _like_ me?" he asked quietly, fidgeting with the frayed ends of his jeans.

"No," she responded automatically, but she didn't sound very confident in her answer. "How could I possibly like you? You're everything that I don't want. You're too nice."

"Too nice? What does that mean?" He couldn't look at her. He knew the moment that he did, he would be doomed.

"You're not strong enough. You let girls use you, and they _break_ you. You need to learn to protect yourself."

"Well, _you_ protect yourself too much. You need to learn to trust people. You need to learn to trust _me._" The ache was evident in his voice.

"I do," she croaked.

"Do you _like_ me?" he asked again.

She didn't say anything, choosing instead to launch numerous rocks into the lake.

"I'm scared, Freddie," she whispered.

"Me, too."

"What is this?"

"I don't know. But maybe we can figure it out."

"Do you **hate** me?" she wondered aloud.

"No."

He touched her hand then, very gently. Her gaze drifted from the water to him. She found a look of honesty on his face, and her insides swelled with hope.

"I need some time," she murmured. "I don't want to rush anything."

"We have time."

He laced his fingers with hers, moving his body closer. She leaned against him, and they both glanced out at the horizon.

Freddie turned to her. In a comforting voice, he said, "You can keep it, you know. My heart. Keep it until you know for sure what you're feeling is real."

"Thanks. Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

"You have mine, too. Keep it safe until you know for sure."

His smile was bright enough to light up the entire city of Seattle. "I promise I will."

* * *

She **liked** him.

She **liked** the way his eyes softened when they were alone together—the look he gave her was enough to take her breath away.

She **liked **the way he would chuckle whenever she did something outrageously silly, which was often. He planned their dates accordingly so she could showcase her carefree self.

She **liked** that whenever she wasn't feeling one hundred percent, he would gather her in his arms and let her rest her head against his chest. She smiled every time he whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

She **liked **how each time a girl who seemed somewhat interested in Freddie saw the two of them together, they would walk away with a glint of jealousy in their eyes because they knew he was taken.

She **liked **everything about him. But mostly, she liked how he kept his promise; her heart had been kept safely out of harm's way.

* * *

He **liked **her.

He** liked** the way her lips would turn into a real smile when they spent time away from the public eye. She had the most blindingly beautiful smile he had ever seen, and he felt extremely lucky that that smile was reserved just for him.

He **liked** her the way her cobalt eyes would twinkle with amusement when he tried to explain the newest concepts of technology to her.

He **liked **the way her face glowed with happiness when he did something incredibly romantic. On the surface, she pretended like she didn't adore the attention, but he knew on the inside she was as giddy as a child on Christmas morning.

He **liked **that whenever he was feeling particularly protective of her, she would snuggle into his side to remind him that he was only guy for her.

He **liked** everything about her. But mostly, he liked that she trusted him enough to keep her heart. Every day, there seemed to be a new crack in her walls. He knew without a doubt that someday, they would crumble down completely. And when that day came, he would be ready.

* * *

_**Well, there you have it. Review = love, so show me your love :)**_


	6. Autumn: hay, frost, hot chocolate

**A/N:**

_Hang onto your seats, a lot of fluff is flying your way! I apologize for the lack of updates. I'm working on them, I promise! _

_There's a bit of a back story to this one-shot. Sam and Freddie have graduated from college and are now living together. They reside in northern California so Freddie can be closer to Pear Headquarters, where he works. Sam's a second year law student, but she manages to balance her school work and her home life. As a side note, the Seddie break-up never happened, so they've been together for a long time. Anyway, enjoy :)_

_As if this wasn't a long enough author's note, I have to add a shout out to anyone who has read, favorited, followed, or just liked this story. I tip my hat off to you guys. A writer is only is as good as the support they get, so a million thanks to everyone. _

_Dedicated to __**Lackadaisical Pajamas. **__Thanks for the prompt!_

**Disclaimer:**

_Grrr…each time I have to do one of these, I wish I could say that Dan Schneider gave me the rights. But alas, that is not the truth. Darn. _

* * *

**Seasonal Seddie Love **

**PROMPT**

Season: autumn

Age: twenty-three years old

Words: hay, frost, and hot chocolate

* * *

"Sam, do I really have to do this?" Freddie groaned.

"Yes. Quit whining and get your butt up there!"

Freddie stared at the monstrosity in front of him. It was just so _big._ And it moved.

"But what if it _kills_ me?"

"Oh my God, Freddie," Sam snickered, making her way to him from the barn. In her arms were two bundles of hay.

She set them down on the ground, and briskly walked to the source of Freddie's problem. Bending down, she placed a small kiss to the animal's skin and ran her hand along its soft coat of hair.

"Buttercup is a sweetheart; she would _never_ kill you. She's gonna give you such an easy ride. You're lucky that I picked her out for you. Otherwise you'd be stuck with my tough man, Centaur." She pointed her thumb towards the black stallion, who lapped at the cool water in his trough.

"Sam, it's a _horse._ A large, frightening horse. It's going to buck me off and stomp all over me!" Freddie shouted hysterically, waving his arms around.

Crossing her arms across her chest, Sam arched an eyebrow. "Buttercup is she, Freddie. As in _girl._"

Her words hit him with nostalgia, causing his lips to quirk into a half-smile. "We've had this discussion before. Remember when you practically murdered me for teasing you about that when we were thirteen?"

Sticking out her tongue at him, she nodded. "Oh, I remember. You were a brat back then."

"_Me?_ Have you forgotten about yourself? I was a well-behaved, innocent child. You were the crazy, out of control one who mentally and physically abused me!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "You're still not over that. C'mon, Freddie. We were teenagers, and I wasn't exactly keen on sharing my feelings with you. So, sue me if I had to use other tactics to get your attention."

He chuckled, brown eyes shining with humor. "I can't believe we've been together for as long as we have. Seems like a miracle, actually."

"Damn right. Seven years and we haven't managed to completely destroy each other yet." She grinned, extending her hand to sock him in the arm. It was a gesture of affection, rather than one to cause pain.

"Although, I'm pretty sure we're cutting it close with this one." He motioned towards Buttercup with a frown. "Seriously, Sam? I swear you're attempting to kill me. When the police question the reason for my death, you'll call it accident. Only I'll know the truth." He narrowed his eyes in mock anger.

"You are such a whiner!" She playfully slapped his arm with an amused smirk. "You will be _fine._ The path we're taking is going to be a piece of cake."

"We're going into the Redwood Forest, which is a million feet up in the air! How is that simple?" Freddie cried, fisting his hair.

"Will you stop freaking out? We're going to be _fine._ Jesus, you've seen me ride a thousand times before. Have I ever gotten hurt?"

He pouted. "Well, no. You've been riding since we got the horses, so you have the experience. But this is different because you're forcing me to go this time."

"I think your riding time is long overdue, Freddie. The feeling you get when you ride is something that can't be easily described. You have to experience it yourself." She leaned down, dropping another kiss to Buttercup. She scooped up the hay, made a clicking sound with her tongue, and marched over to Centaur. The gentle giant trailed behind Sam to her place next to the other animal.

Freddie watched Sam's retreating form, admiring the way her riding outfit fit her snuggly. Her brown buckle boots gave her enough height so that they were eye-level. Her tight, khaki colored pants accentuated her beautiful curves nicely. But, his absolute favorite part of the ensemble was the forest green jacket that highlighted the blonde in her hair and the blue in her eyes. Even after seven years together, he appreciated how utterly stunning his girlfriend was every single day.

"Stop staring at my ass," Sam called over her shoulder as she fed Buttercup.

He rose in hands in surrender. "What? Am I not allowed to look at my incredible girlfriend?"

"You're such a sap."

"But you love me." He smiled warmly.

"Hm, I'm not so sure about that sometimes." Winking, she reached into a silver bucket by her feet and fetched a delicious looking, ruby red apple. She tossed it to him, which he caught effortlessly.

"Hey! Who bought you your horses?"

With a mischievous grin, she flipped him off. He shrugged in response and decided to taunt her by lifting the fruit to his lips to take a generous bite. Sam's vicious glare stopped him before his teeth could sink into the juicy morsel.

"For the horse, idiot," she hissed without any real venom in her voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Rolling his eyes, he sauntered over. He hesitantly held his hand out to Centaur.

Despite being a toughie, Centaur's molten brown eyes lit up at the sight. He let out a soft sound of approval, and his large mouth immediately clamped down on the piece of food.

"See? Centaur's a good boy," Sam cooed, leaving Buttercup for a moment to pat the black stallion fondly on the head.

"To you he is," Freddie snorted. "Just wait. One day you'll have me ride him and then he'll throw me over a cliff." He cringed at the very idea.

"Well, if it will stop your whining, then maybe it's worth it."

"Hey!"

"Gotcha." She stepped closer and pressed her lips to her boyfriend's cheek.

"It's a mystery why I still stick around," Freddie chuckled, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist.

A giggle escaped her mouth. "I think it's because I put up with your nerdy stuff. No other girl could stand how you go on and on about technology and Galaxy Wars, and whatever else your geeky brain adores."

"That's probably it." Bending his head slightly, he captured Sam's lips in a light kiss. He pulled her tighter in his arms to deepen it, but she pushed him away.

"Later," she said firmly. "Now, we ride."

He instantly pouted. "But, _Sam…_"

She shook her head. "Nope. Saddle up, Freddie. And just because you've complained a lot already, we're going to add an extra thirty minutes on to our ride. So, two and half hours it is."

Freddie's cheeks flushed with irritation. "Sam!"

Before he could utter another word, she flashed him a second wink and walked away, leaving him standing there, sputtering internally.

* * *

Despite the struggle of actually getting on the horse and trusting it enough not to kill him, Freddie was enjoying the ride. The view of the Redwood Forest absolutely took his breath away. There was nothing more gorgeous in nature than seeing the majestic trees with their vibrant crimson and radiant orange leaves, the smooth earthy ground, and the clear blue sky. Sunshine fell on him, casting a shield of warmth around him. The autumn breeze tousled his hair and left a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Buttercup, much to his chagrin, was the most sweet-natured creature he'd ever encountered. She trotted slowly, giving him time to adjust to feeling of riding. She made approving sounds when he used the reigns to indicate to her where he wanted to turn. And she even nuzzled his hand when he petted her. Yes, it seemed like Freddie Benson liked horseback riding.

"You're having fun, aren't you?" Sam said, tossing her head back with a laugh. She was a few feet ahead of Freddie, guiding Centaur along the path.

He grumbled, trying to conceal the small smile that was stretching across his lips.

"It's not so bad," he muttered reluctantly.

"You _like_ it." Her voice dripped with smugness, and she turned around to smirk at him.

Narrowing his eyes, Freddie scowled. He hated that his girlfriend knew him so well.

"Yeah," he surrendered with a sigh.

"Told you so."

"Arrogance is not an attractive quality on you, Sam," Freddie warned.

"But you love me anyway." Her charming, coaxing smile was enough to make his insides flutter.

She was childish at times. She drove him up the wall. She would do the wildest things to make him burst out laughing. She was emotionally and physically the strongest person he knew. And she made his heart swell with hope…and with love.

So, there was no doubt in his mind when he answered, "I do."

Her face softened for a moment before her bright cerulean eyes sparkled with mirth. "Don't get sentimental on me, Benson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Puckett," he fired back.

Rolling her eyes, she shifted her hand to the right to indicate a turn. Centaur obeyed her command, lifting his big hooves to clop up the hill. Once Sam reached the spot she wanted to get to, she said, "Whoa." Centaur halted, swishing his tail patiently.

Freddie tugged on Buttercup's reigns so that she wouldn't run into Centaur. "What's going on?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

She pointed outwards. "Take a look."

Freddie's eyes followed her finger, and they widened when he took in the sight. His breath hitched in his throat.

Below him was the rest of the forest, appearing just as grand and delightful as the several pictures he'd seen. But actually being there, gazing out at this wonder, he couldn't stop his heart from soaring.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Sam whispered, her eyes still trained on the trees, the rolling hills, and the running river below them.

Freddie nudged Buttercup closer to Centaur, which brought him near to his girlfriend. He touched her hand to lace their fingers together. And just like the humans, the horses nuzzled each other.

"Thank you, Sam. Thanks for forcing me to come. This has been one of the best days that I've had the pleasure of having with you," he murmured, bringing her hand to his mouth to brush his lips against her skin.

"What did I say about being corny?" Her voice was quiet, but filled with adoration.

"You love it when I'm corny."

She nodded, and it did not go unnoticed by either adult that her heartbeats began increasing. "You're right. I do."

He drew her into him, and planted his mouth firmly against hers. She kissed him earnestly, enjoying the cinnamon flavor he always seemed to have on his lips.

They kissed until Centaur snorted with a bit of annoyance. He may have been a horse, but he did not take kindly to being ignored by his owner. He stamped the ground, demanding Sam's attention.

Sam pulled away from Freddie, and carefully swatted the animal. "Way to ruin a moment, man," she retorted.

Centaur threw his head back, showing her the laughter in his eyes.

Sighing, she relented. "All right. You want to go home." She turned to her boyfriend. "I guess our ride is over. This one's impatient for some food, apparently." She gestured to the black stallion with a wink. "I could go for some, too."

"And here I was having fun," Freddie sulked.

"Don't worry. We'll go riding again, and we'll make it twice as long next time."

Freddie's eyes lit up. "Really?" He sounded like a child on Christmas morning.

"Yes. Now, let's try our hand at cantering. Fastest way to get back." Her azure orbs glowed with mischief.

"Wait, cantering? What—"

Sam didn't wait for him to finish. She yanked on Centaur's reigns, and the horse immediately understood what she meant. He began galloping at full speed, dashing down the hills and jumping over fallen logs.

"SAM!" Freddie yelped as Buttercup followed suit, hightailing it out of there at almost an identical speed.

"Last one home has to cook dinner!" she shouted, continuing to race as if she was in the Kentucky Derby.

"Sam!" he repeated, trying to figure out what the hell to do with a horse that was content on blasting through the forest. "I'm going to kill you!"

His answering reply was playful laughter.

Grinding his teeth and closing his eyes from the dizzying motion, he really wondered why he was so desperately in love with her.

* * *

"That was a very delicious dinner, honey," Sam said, picking up the plates and silverware to place into the sink.

"Shut up."

"It's not my fault, you know. If you had come with me sooner, you'd already know how to canter." She gave him a devilish smirk.

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever, Puckett."

She gently whacked the side of his head. And he had the nerve to call _her_ immature. "Anyway, I have cases to brief for Monday. I should probably get started on the stack."

Freddie wrinkled his nose. "Sam, it's Friday. You don't have to work tonight. That's what tomorrow and Sunday are there for."

"But if I don't get started now, I'm going to be dead within the next two days. Law school's not a joke, baby."

His face softened. "I know that. You deserve a night off, though. C'mon, let's a watch a movie or something." He grabbed her hand to lead her to the couch.

"Freddie…"

He raised a finger to her lips. "No arguments. Save those for your classroom on Monday. Tonight, you are going to relax, watch a movie, and drink a cup of hot chocolate that I'll make for you. Do I make myself clear?" He raised an eyebrow in a challenge and removed his finger.

She nodded wearily. "Fine," she sighed, then shoved his shoulder. "But _you_ better stay out of my way tomorrow. I'm not doing anything but sitting in my office and briefing the cases. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now go make me that hot chocolate. And no using the boxed stuff, either. I want it from scratch. Oh, and shut the window. It's getting chilly in here."

"_Sam_," he groaned.

"Off you go." She pushed him towards the kitchen with a light slap to his butt.

He shook his head, fighting a smile. He knew he didn't have long before she would start yelling, so he speedily gathered the ingredients. He paused briefly to look out of the window. A crescent moon stared back at him, a pale goddess against the midnight sky. A gust of wind rushed inside, making him shiver. He noticed that frost had started collecting on the cool glass, so he quickly shut it. His lips twitched into a smile as he traced his and Sam's name in a heart on the glass.

"Freddie, I want my drink soon!" Sam hollered from the living room.

Shaking his head once more, he began the torturous process of making home-made hot chocolate.

A half an hour later, he walked into the living room with a steaming cup in his hands. His heart warmed at the sight of Sam snuggled beneath a blanket, watching _Casablanca._

"A classic tonight?" he asked, handing her the mug.

"Yeah. I didn't feel like watching a horror flick. Neither of us are into romantic comedies, so it was either classic or sci-fi. And I am _not_ re-watching Galaxy Wars for nth time."

"You've only seen the first one, like, four times. There are five other Galaxy movies besides that one," he justified, sitting down next to her.

"You can save the nerdy talk for later. Right now, I'm into what Humphrey Bogart is saying to Ingrid Bergman." She stretched herself across the couch so that she was leaning against him, her head on his shoulder. Taking a sip of the warm drink, she moaned.

"At least you're good for something," she teased, tilting her head to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks. I'm glad you think I make a good servant." He rolled his eyes and bent his head to press his lips to her temple.

"Oh, you make an _excellent_ servant. And a pillow, for that matter."

He laughed, pulling her closer to him. He placed his arm around her waist, and she snuggled into his side. His eyes drifted to the screen, but his fingers absentmindedly combed through her blonde locks.

After a couple of hours, Sam was sound asleep on his shoulder. He didn't dare to wake her, so he decided a night on the couch wasn't a bad idea. He glanced at her sleeping form, and his mouth curved into a gentle smile. He knew in his heart that he was ready to ask her that question tomorrow. And luckily, he knew exactly how to do it.

* * *

"Freddie Benson, where the hell are my cases?" Sam bellowed, stomping into the dining room.

He looked up from the newspaper, widening his eyes in shock. "Whatever do you mean, darling? Your cases should be on your office desk," he answered innocently.

"Do not 'darling' me! Where did you hide them?" she ground out, clenching her fists at her sides.

"I didn't hide them. You must be mistaken."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. "You are a terrible actor. No wonder you never got screen time when we did iCarly."

"Hey! That's insulting!"

She ignored his protests. "Freddie, I'm serious. I already agreed to take tomorrow night off. I _need_ to work on those cases today and tomorrow. If I don't get them done, my professor is going to have my head. That's not the way to start my career!"

He stood up from his seat. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he shushed her. "Sam, it's going to be all right. Calm down. I only moved them because I knew you were going to head straight for them this morning. Look, why don't you go feed the horses first? I bet they're hungry after such a big day yesterday. _Then,_ you can start frying your brain with briefing. Does that sound okay?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Why can't you feed them?"

"They like you better." He shrugged, an impish grin on his face.

"You are so lucky that I'm not pulling out a butter sock right now and hitting you with it."

"Thought you gave up the butter sock when we went to college," he mused.

"I can bring it back just as easily."

He decided to turn the subject back to his goal. "Go give your babies some breakfast. They're hungry."

Sighing loudly, she turned away and bounded for the barn. When she reached her destination, she strode to the barrels of hay. She scooped up a handful, but was surprised to find that an object had lodged itself in there. She bent down to pick it up, and her hand closed around a velvety gray box. When she lifted it to eye-level, a sharp gasp left her mouth. She ran at full speed into the house, all the while shaking.

When she trundled into the dining room to demand what was going on, she found Freddie on one knee.

"Sam," he said slowly. "You're my world. Always have been. And I know you're still in law school and things are crazy. But our life together is crazy, and I can't imagine spending my life without your insanity. Will you marry me?"

She didn't have to think about the answer. "Yes."

She leaped into his arms, crushing her mouth against his in a blazing kiss full of promise and hope. She finally withdrew from his embrace many moments later, and both adults took a minute to catch their breaths. Freddie took the box from her to slide the delicate white-gold band on her finger. She smiled, flexing her hand to watch the dazzling emerald gem gleam in the sunlight. After a minute, her eyes shifted to her fiancé.

"I love you," she murmured. "And I think I'll love being your insane wife."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Mrs. Soon-To-Be-Benson."

"That will eventually be Attorney Benson to you, Freddie. And speaking of which, where are my cases?"

He groaned. This was going to be an interesting next few years.

* * *

_**Hope you liked it! I've actually gone horseback riding up in the Redwood Forest. Very beautiful indeed. By the way, reviews make me the happiest girl in the world. Just saying ;) **_


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